


Time and Tide

by RangoAteMyBaby (FormallyKnownAsFreya)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Injury, Don't say I didn't warn you, Friends to Lovers, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Major Character Injury, Merman Shiro, Modern Mermaid AU, Mute Keith (Voltron), RATING SUBJECT TO CHANGE AS THE STORY PROGRESSES, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends, Tags Subject to Change as the story progresses, mermaid au, merman Keith, possible major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2019-11-13 22:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 89,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18040613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormallyKnownAsFreya/pseuds/RangoAteMyBaby
Summary: Lance has been waiting his whole life for the day he got to study the merfolk up close. It's a dream come true to finally see the mystical creatures in person and he can't wait to make new discoveries. Including love, perhaps?Keith's been dreading this migration ever since he became of age. Looking for a mate has never appealed to him and he doesn't expect that to change. He's too strange and different from the others. He would never strike another mer's fancy. But maybe...he'd strike a human's interest instead?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, and Edhelwen. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*

 

 _" **My soul is full of longing** _  
**_for the secret of the sea,_ **  
_**and the heart of the great ocean** _  
_**sends a thrilling pulse through me.** "_  
_\--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

 

“Lance, hurry up or we’re going to miss the first arrivals!” Pidge calls through the front door, her voice echoing throughout her home. She smacks her fist on the frame and lets out an impatient huff when he doesn’t respond. “You hear me? _Lance!_ ”

“I’m coming!” he answers. “Just hold on a sec--!”

The lanky young man rushes to and fro across his borrowed room for his effects. His notebook and pencils of course. Grabs them and shoves them into his bag. No guarantee they’ll even get close enough for a sketch or two but better to have them than not, right? Speaking of--he grabs his razor blades to sharpen his pencils with too. Never know how fine a line he’ll need.

Pidge gives another griping noise as she hits the frame impatiently again. She may be small in stature but her temper is strong enough to sink a galleon ship and that’s nothing to test. She hates being late or missing out on rare happenings. This is her first year observing the migration, just like Lance, and if she misses it because he’s taking a dump--

“Patience, Pidge,” says a calm voice as a large hand comes to rest on her head.

“I’m trying, Hunk,” she tells him but the way she clips her words says her composure is nearing its end.

That seems like everything he’d need, Lance thinks as he scans the room a third time and lists off with his fingers. His drawing stuff, some snacks, a hat to keep the sun from baking his neck. Looks good, now for himself. He does a quick once-over in the little decorative mirror on the wall.

Beautifully smooth tanned skin and not a hair out of place. He flashes himself a quick smile with a wink. He looks good too. Great. And with a click of his tongue, he runs for the door where his friends wait on the porch. Then he suddenly raises a finger in realization and stops in his tracks.

His ID! Crap!

“Lance, are you fucking kidding me?!” Pidge shrieks when he turns.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologizes profusely as he retreats back into the Holt residence.

He needs that ID if he wants to get into the sanctuary directly afterward. He trips over Pidge’s dog which growls and bites at his ankle in passing. Something he bumps into falls over in his room and Lance curses. The moment of silence is too long because Pidge practically growls her next sentence.

“If I miss the arrivals because of you, Lance, I’ll--”

“Alright already! I’m coming!” Lance calls as he runs out the front door zooming past them. He keeps going down the street, looking over his shoulder with a cheeky smile. “Well, you guys coming or what, slowpokes?”

They run together as fast as they can down the roads and streets, the shortest route possible to the docks.

Lance is out front courtesy of his long legs and ridiculous running sprints. Pidge is close on his heels, yelling and cussing him out for being a lazy, disorganized, piece of--if she had the energy to run, breathe, and curse she’d do it but right now the only thing powering her enough to keep up is her spite. She’ll threaten him with more pain later. Hunk brings up the back, keeping up a leisurely jogging pace while looking at his watch, not a modicum of concern on his face.

Hawaii is perfect this time of year. Hell, it’s beautiful all year round. Sun streaming through the numerous palm trees, their fronds swaying in the sea breeze. The sweet smell of the fruit stalls comes up on them fast enough, quickly followed by the overpowering scent of the adjacent fish market. Soon they’ll be in the touristy parts of the city and with it being vacation season the streets are packed with people from all corners of the world.

Lance already loves it here. He only started living with the Holts about a month ago. It wasn’t hard getting used to the sun and the heat, as it’s much like Varadero. Then there’s the delicious food. And some killer waves to surf. Even the crowded streets make him feel like he’s back home.

The only hangup is that he misses the music. Misses the sultry sounds of a sad guitar being plucked on the porch of his home, courtesy of his Papi. Lance didn’t bring his own guitar and he regrets it every day. Luckily Hunk, being the good friend he is, lends him his ukelele on occasion. It’s not the same but it helps curb some of that homesickness.

Anyway, he didn’t come here to play music. He came to make unique discoveries no one else has. He’s here to bring a lifelong dream to fruition. And today is the first day of making that dream come true.

He can hardly contain himself.

They finally make it down to the docks. Their ship, a retired fishing boat by the name _Hespera_ , is just getting the last of its equipment loaded. Pidge’s brother is hauling up the final box just as Hunk strolls up. Both Lance and Pidge are the last to arrive, panting and gasping for air as they argue about which of the two of them made it there first.

“I made it to the docks before you,” Lance insists.

“But I touched the boat before you,” Pidge points out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Matt laughs. “Hunk beat you both.”

“That’s what happens when you use up all your energy at the start,” Hunk chuckles at them. “Haven’t you ever heard that slow and steady wins the race?”

“We didn’t miss anything, did we? Because of Lance?” Pidge asks and Lance shoots her a glare.

“Boat’s still here, isn’t it?” Matt snorts. “The only thing you missed out on was loading the equipment. We’re about to leave now.”

“Score!” Lance cheers, but still out of breath. “Exactly as I planned it, see?”

“Lazy shit,” Pidge breathes and punches his arm. “We were almost late--all because you didn’t want to do any heavy lifting?

“I doubt he planned it, Pidge,” Hunk sighs and takes the box from Matt to carry up. “He just got lucky, so let it go.”

“Yeah, let it go, Pidge,” Lance elbows and steps across the boards to the boat. “We made it, that’s all that matters, right?”

The _Hespera_ is their research vessel. Fully equipped with radar, GPS, and radio. The boxes that Matt was carrying up before they arrived has some waterproof cameras and recording devices to drop into the water once they’re out to sea. To broadcast and pick up responses from their incoming guests.

“How’s it going, Dad?” Matt calls into the wheelhouse a.k.a the bridge.

The sound of someone’s head hitting hard on the bottom of a panel resounds through the boat, followed by a silent curse before there’s laughter. The older man crawls out from the wires and such before standing up with a soft smile.

“Good good,” he says as he rubs his head. “Looks like everyone’s here. Hunk, Katie, Lance.”

“Yep,” Hunk nods and takes the final box down into what they’ve been calling Tech Cabin 2, the place where Hunk works most of the time when they’re out at sea.

“You two ready to see some mermaids?” he asks Katie and Lance. The both of them light up with bright grins, their arguments long-forgotten as they nod with barely contained excitement. “Then we should head out now, while the tide’s on our side. Get her going Matt.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Matt nods and heads into the bridge so they can get started.

Hunk returns to the deck and insists everyone put on some safety gear. A life vest for everyone and none of them fashionable, this is made obvious by Lance’s scrunched nose as he begrudgingly puts one on. Bright glowing neon yellow with the marine institute logo stitched on front and back; a dolphin with a shell in its mouth as it springs from the ocean.

“Well, the logo is cute at least,” Lance hums as he clips it in place.

They’re barely out of the bay before Lance bombards Dr. Holt with questions. How soon will they see the merfolk? How many does he usually see on the first day of the migration? Will they come up to the boat? How close?

Pidge asks her fair share of questions too. What percentage of the pods are Dolphinian? Koi? What about other species? How can you tell their pod from a regular pod of dolphins? What are the differences in size across species?

Every question lobbed at him makes Dr. Holt laugh and laugh. He’s endeared by their curiosity and says as much. Hunk leans on a railing nearby and watches them with an amused chuckle as well. He was like that too his first year.

“I’ve shown you the pictures I took, Pidge,” Hunk smiles. “You know how big they are.”

“Pictures aren’t the same, Hunk!” she exclaims and turns to Lance for backup. “Right?”

“Right!”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Dr. Holt chuckles.

Twenty minutes out and finally they’re far enough into the sea to drop anchor. While they do that Matt drops the underwater mics as well. Two of them, one for sending and the other for receiving. High tech equipment developed for a very specific purpose--communication between humans and merfolk over vast distances.

Once they’re in the water, the people crowd around Matt and Hunk as they take a seat at their computers. They put on their headsets and start adjusting knobs and dials. Matt keeps his headphones off kilter so he can hear his father’s instructions better as he hits buttons.

“Machines are a go,” he says.

“First wave,” Dr. Holt nods at him. “In T-minus thirty. Ready to pick up and record responses, Hunk?”

“Recording is a go,” Hunk answers with a nod and hits his own buttons. “In five, four, three, two…” He points and Matt flicks a switch to send out the pulse.

It’s a low frequency sound wave but they can all feel the vibration all the way down to their toes. A pulse that ebbs out in waves, groupings of three in quick succession several times before Matt hits the switch again. The cabin is deathly silent as they all look at the screens.

Then there’s a pop. Followed by a series of clicks and several gurgles.

“Dolphins?” Pidge guesses.

“Close,” Matt says with a knowing smile.

“Dolphinians?” Lance asks. Matt nods and Lance grins, then leans on Hunk’s shoulder. “Amazing! What are they saying, Hunk? Do you know?”

“We’re still developing a way to translate their _spoken_ language properly. Means we’re decades away from breaking down their sonar clicks,” Hunk tells him, disappointment in his voice. “Sorry, Lance.”

That’s when a new sound comes through. It’s almost the same as the low-frequency pulse but the tone is different. Lower. And if it could be said it’s...melodic. Matt breaks out into a huge smile and turns to face his dad.

“He’s back!” Matt says, more than pleased.

“You sure?” Holt asks and his son nods, certain. The man then lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

“Who?” Lance asks, his curiosity flaring up once again. Too many questions and not enough answers makes him antsy. His feet are even starting to tap impatiently.

“You’ll see,” Holts smiles, keeping his secrets to himself. “How far out, Matt?”

Matt tells him to hold on a second as he does a little math. Needs to calculate the time between pulses and responses and take all the other variables into consideration. After two minutes he taps at the numbers on his notebook.

“I’d say about a couple dozen miles, give or take a few,” Matt hums and readjusts his dials. “So about an hour tops if they keep in a straight line.”

“Then it's time for the second wave,” Holt nods. “Let them know they’re on the right track and we can’t wait to see them.”

“Sending secondary wave in five, four, three, two…”

Matt flicks the switch and a new pulse echoes out. It’s different from the first but Lance couldn’t say exactly how. Just a feeling. They get a response a few minutes later. Numerous enthusiastic clicks, gurgles, and pops.

“They sound excited,” Lance says.

“Dolphinians are _always_ excited,” Matt laughs.

“That other sound though, it sounded different,” Pidge points out. “The sing-songy pulse. Not a Dolphinian, right?”

“No, he’s--”

“Don’t tell her, Hunk,” Matt interrupts “Or she won’t be surprised when she sees him.”

Pidge grumbles, annoyed at the both of them. Lance doesn’t care what species or subspecies they are as long as he gets to see one up close. Gets to touch one. Already he’s clambered up the steps back to the deck so he can lean over the railing with his eyes on the horizon. Waves swaying and beautifully blue.

An hour? They have to wait an hour? Lance steels himself and takes a deep breath of the salty sea air.

Fine. If that’s what it takes to have a childhood dream come true, then he’ll do it. He has to. His whole life has lead to this day.

Since he was a kid Lance has been fascinated with the merfolk. Spent countless days and nights drawing them and making up stories of his own. His own great-grandfather said he saw one once when he was a lad. Caught it in a net while fishing off the coast.

Back then all species of merfolk were an endangered species. In the old days, many thought mer bad luck or evil so most of the time they were killed once caught in a net.

But Lance’s great-grandfather let it go. Claimed it blessed him for his mercy. Insisted he never had a bad fishing day for the rest of his life because of that act and had even been given a gift that guaranteed he’d never drown at sea. A gift he gave to Lance when he was eight.

It’s just a marble. Lance has checked into it under a microscope and such. Just a piece of seaglass the mer likely shaped into a ball. A prized possession given in thanks along with a kiss. Or so the story goes. Sounds silly but his Gramps always believed in the magic of merfolk and insisted to his dying day that the mer’s gift would protect Lance too.

Lance can’t say it _hasn’t_ brought him luck so he carries it in his pocket everywhere he goes. If it’s magic, great! If not, it’s a great way to keep his great-grandfather’s memory with him. A plus either way.

Thirty years ago serious studies began on the merfolk. Scientific expeditions to find and preserve not only their numbers but their culture as well. Laws enacted to criminalize the poaching and capture of any and all merfolk species. Conservation efforts commenced to create sanctuaries all around the globe.

South America’s is one of the youngest sanctuaries out there. It’s the one Lance’s mother wanted him to go to for his studies but it barely has anything going for it. Very little funding and very few species for study. But the U.S. has branches all over including one of the longest running merfolk sanctuaries in Hawaii. It boasts the largest and most diverse pods of merfolk in the Pacific. It has species from the Sea of Japan, the Yellow Sea, and the East China Sea too.

He decided it was where he needed to be if he wants to contribute something amazing to the scientific community.

Lance has been reading and studying everything on merfolk he could get his hands on since he could read. Mostly fiction at first, but then in middle school he started reading journals. Papers on marine biology, oceanography, and more. Anything about the ocean and the creatures that lived there, including the merfolk. He plastered his bedroom walls with anatomical charts and migration patterns. His parents thought it was some kind of obsessive phase that he’d grow out of.

He didn’t.

In high school he wrote his own speculative papers on ocean conservation and improving the sanctuaries. Studies on how to prevent common illnesses suffered by the merfolk. Anything he could write about, he wrote about. Submitted them to magazines and scientific journals, to anyone who would read them. It’s how he got a scholarship to study marine biology in the first place. Pidge and him were the top of the class at Eckerd College in Florida and offered the opportunity to study at any sanctuary of their choice for their final year in their master's program.

And now...they’re here. He’s finally here.

God, he better not fuck it up. And write a damn good thesis.

“Excited?” Dr. Holt asks as he leans next to him.

“I could literally pee myself, I’m so excited!” Lance blurts and Holt laughs.

Lance hops off the rail and starts pulling at his fingers. It’s out of character for him and Holt takes notice.

“What’s wrong, Lance?” Holt asks, a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing,” Lance lies.

“You’ve been living with my family for a month already,” Holt says. “I can tell you’re not a 100%.”

“I’m nervous,” he admits. “This is...it’s everything I ever wanted to do since I could walk. And now I can’t stop thinking about my thesis--”

“You have all year to write it,” Holt assures him.

“But only _three months_ to study the merfolk up close!” Lance frets, tugging on his own hair. “What if I don’t get enough information? Or it's not interesting enough? Or my paper is no good? They won’t let me graduate--”

“Calm down, Lance,” Holt chuckles, patting his shoulder. “You’re as bad as Katie.”

He reminds him not to stress out. After all, Lance has barely even started his study. If he gets all worked up about it before he even starts, he’ll miss all his chances for success. That’s what Holt tells his kids anyway. Always seems to help them chill out and take their time.

“I’ve seen your grades, your tests, _and_ your research papers from before you ever got to work with the real thing,” Holt ruffles his head of short hair. “I can only imagine what you’ll accomplish now.”

Lance smiles at the encouragement. He sure hopes Dr. Holt is right. Actually, he’s sure he is. There’s still so much to learn about the merfolk that anything he writes about will contribute so much to the scientific community.

“There’s more than Dolphinians, right?” Lance asks curiously. “I mean, I’ve already read so much about them...I’d like to study something different. Like the Koi or the Orcans. Something a little more...uncommon.”

“You’ll have plenty of species to familiarize yourself with, don’t worry,” Holt assures him.

Just then a knocking noise catches their attention. Matt inside and rapping on the window. He signals to his watch and puts up five fingers. Five minutes until the very first arrivals. And now Lance’s excitement is renewed.

“Come on,” Holt bumps his shoulder with his fist. “We need to lower the rope ladder on the starboard side.”

Lowering the rope ladder? What for? Are they going into the water?!

The good doctor assures them that this is not the case. All the humans will be staying in the boat for now. No, the ladder has a different purpose of which they will all see very soon. So Lance drops the ladder and looks down into the frothy waters.

Soon. Soon this water will be churning with merfolk. Dolphinians. Koi. Maybe even Orcans. How exciting!

The others all join him now on the starboard side. Matt and Hunk keep a good ten feet from the railing. Dr. Holt stands near the rope ladder, patiently waiting with his eyes on the water. Pidge looks through her binoculars a mere foot from the railing right next to Lance, a big impish grin on her face and tapping her feet in her excitement.

A splash on the horizon and they all hold their breath. Then another getting closer. Then dozens of silvered gray bodies breach the surface in arches, diving down just to come back up again with mighty pushes of their flukes. From the untrained eye one would think porpoises. But not this crew.

“Dolphinians!” Pidge calls out as she points. “Look! Lance! Look!”

“I see them!”

“Lean over the railing, Lance!” Matt calls out to him and Dr. Holt gives his son a disapproving frown. “Do it. Stick your hand out as far as you can reach.”

Lance does so. He plants his feet in the bars of the railing and leans forward. One hand holds tight to the top bar while the other stretches out.

A Dolphinian girl spots him and diverts from the pod’s course. Two others follow her. They rush the boat at top speed with big smiles on their faces. At the last second they dive deep before rocketing out of the water to slap Lance’s hanging hand with a wet high five. They then fall back into the water with a splash.

Lance is stunned at first but then breaks out into a huge grin. Then hysterical laughter. The other two Dolphinians follow suit, saying something in their native tongue as they jettison up to hit his hand too. They splash back down and take off to return to the pod with excited clicks.

“Did you see that?!” Lance turns and beams the biggest smile he’s ever smiled in his life. His face almost hurts as he wipes his wet hand on his khakis. “They’re even bigger in person! Bigger than me by a head, maybe two!”

“They’re the smallest species you’ll see around here,” Matt tells him. “The Koi are a bit larger. The whale species are even bigger but we don’t get many of them.”

“What did they say to him?” Pidge asks curiously.

“Just the merfolk equivalent of aloha,” Hunk smiles.

“That was Aquan?” Lance awes. “It was a few vowels and clicks! You understand it?!”

“And speak it,” Holt nods. "Well, a little anyway."

Holt’s been studying the language for over twenty years and even so he’s just barely conversationally fluent. If he had to press it, he maybe knows about fifteen percent of the Aquan language.

“Do any of them speak English?” Lance asks.

“There’s one that speaks it pretty well,” Matt nods. “He makes an effort to learn and teach a few phrases to the others. You might even see him soon. He always comes to the boat. Look for black and white. ”

“And Orcan?!” both Pidge and Lance exclaim and lean over the railing to look.

“No, no. He’s a scale species. A Koi,” Holt laughs. “Though he _is_ rather big.”

“There! There he is! I see him!” Pidge points with excitement.

A big body and getting bigger the closer he gets.

“You weren’t kidding! He’s huge!” Lance gasps at the shape approaching the boat. He’s not fast like the Dolphinians but he’s still much faster than any human. “He’s stopping! He’s stopping!”

Looking down they see what would look like a man if one didn’t know any better. But the big black and white fin assisting him in treading water gives him away. Short dark hair with a streak of white in it, that he slicks back as he looks up. He gives them a wave and points at the ladder with a raised brow.

“It should hold you this time, Shiro,” Matt calls down and a laugh echoes up.

The mer Matt called Shiro grabs ahold and using his considerable upper body strength pulls himself up one rung at a time. Lance just stares in awe as his muscles tense to pull his huge body out of the water and up the side of the boat. Within half a minute he pulls himself to the final rung. Matt, Hunk, and Sam Holt grab him by the arms to pull him the rest of the way so he can get to the deck without slipping.

He is by far the most beautiful creature Lance has ever seen.

His tail isn’t just big, it’s _huge_. Easily seven feet long on it’s own, so that’s not including the rest of his body. Broad shoulders, with muscles sharp enough to cut stone. His gill slits are silvered lines along his neck, closed while he’s in the open air. Then there are webbed fins protruding from the sides of his face and a similar webbed dorsal fin down his back.

Shiro’s scales are a brilliant white and a lacquered black in a blotchy pattern all down his fluke. Those scales shine like glass. He’s a stunning example of a Shiro Utsuri Koi. Guess that’s where his name comes from. As elegant as his namesake. He just seems to shimmer and shine in the sun like a being of myth. Absolutely gorgeous.

“Welcome back, Shiro,” Holt says and shakes his hand. Wet webbed fingers with very short claws grip and shake.

“Nice to see you again, Sam. Hunk. Matt,” he says and nods his head at each of them. Then his face turns and his steely grey eyes fall on the two starstruck interns with mute surprise. “You have _new_ children?”

“Haha, yes,” Holt laughs. “This one is my daughter Katie.”

“My f-friends call me P-Pidge!” she stammers, too overwhelmed to speak properly.

“And this is Lance,” Holt gestures to him. Lance waves, not sure if he can speak at all at the moment. “They’re new students itching to learn.”

“Please to meet you both,” he says, bowing his head with a smile.

Normal looking teeth except for the first and second bicuspids. Those are sharp enough to shred anyone foolish enough to stick a hand near their mouth. Mostly used to tear any large catches into smaller pieces. Luckily Koi are the more docile and calm of the merfolk species.

A dozen merfolk blast past the boat heading straight for the sanctuary bay.

“Any rare treats for us this year, Shiro?” Matt asks, taking a seat next to him so he’s not standing tall over him.

“Yes,” Shiro nods but then slips into a language Lance can’t understand. The clicks and vowels of Aquan. Whatever he says must be good because both Holt and Matt gasp and look at each other with disbelief before looking back to Shiro.

“Seriously? Altean merfolk?” Matt gapes and Shiro nods with a smile.

“Amazing, how many?” Holt asks. Shiro gives him four wiggling fingers. “Four!”

“We rarely ever get Alteans this far south. So rare for these warmer waters. Must be looking for mates...Think you could introduce us, Shiro?” Matt asks eagerly.

“I will try,” he says. “They are a little shy.”

A good forty feet out from the railing Lance glimpses a few flashes of more folk swimming by the boat. Porpoise and whale types, all different combos of grey, white, and black like their ancestral predecessors: the dolphins and orcas. Scaled ones aren’t as common in these waters with the exception of Koi since the Sea of Japan is only a stone’s throw away. And now there are Alteans too.

Could this get any better?

A streak of red blazes right by the boat but never breaches the surface. It’s so fast Lance questions whether or not he saw anything at all.

Probably another Koi. They can be red, orange, and even yellow on top of the black and white ones like Shiro. But he’s never heard of a fast Koi before. They’re slower. More graceful.

Maybe he didn’t see anything. A trick of the light and water. Wouldn’t be the first time the ocean’s fooled him into thinking he saw something in place of nothing.

“Have to go,” Shiro announces looking over the side of the boat. “To help the others.”

“See you soon, Shiro,” Holt nods in understanding.

“Oh!” Matt pipes up before Shiro can leave. “We put in the floating docks you asked for. About ten of them. It’ll free up beach space and give those shy ones a place to sunbathe.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Shiro says with a soft smile. “We appreciate it.”

With that the large Koi jumps from the boat, diving into the ocean. He doesn’t come back up to wave goodbye, just leaves to join the others in settling in at the bay.

Looks like about sixty made it today. Matt promises there will be more tomorrow. The slower Dolphinians with families and large groups of Koi. In a few days there should be no less than a hundred and fifty merfolk laid out on the beach.

“Can we take the boat out again tomorrow? Into the bay?” Pidge asks shaking her dad’s arm. “I want to see the Altean merfolk!”

“Not tomorrow. We’ll take pictures and make observations from the treeline,” Holt tells them.

“Yeah, don’t want to get too close on the first day,” Matt explains. “They’re not settled yet and the last thing we want is a drop in numbers next year because the merfolk don’t feel safe here.”

Shiro needs a chance to talk to them all, to remind them that humans will be nearby. A small select number of humans who will not interact without permission and will cause no harm whatsoever. Shiro will reassure them that the sanctuary is safe. Then they’ll set aside a day where the merfolk can come meet them if they wish so they can get used to their presence there. For now, they need to give them a little space.

Damn. Lance brought his ID for nothing.

Hunk and Pidge talk animatedly on the way back. They both hope they get to see the Altean merfolk tomorrow, even if it is just from a distance.

All the books say Alteans have bioluminescent markings that pulse out messages to others of their kind. It’s the only way they communicate since they don’t have vocal chords. And their bodies are longer than most of the merfolk, thinner too for streamlined swimming. Minimal effort for maximum distance. Out of all the merfolk they’re supposed to be the most beautiful and mysterious.

“So, did you decide on a species for your thesis yet, Lance?” Pidge asks as they walk down the pier.

“Dunno yet. Shiro seems really neat but I figure your dad’s already done tons of studies on him,” Lance hums.

“He has,” Hunk confirms. “Nearly ten years worth.”

“I don’t think I want to just pick a species as much as an individual,” Lance decides. “Like a case study. That way I can build a rapport with a single mer instead of trying to spread myself thin over a bunch of different ones. You know? ”

“I get ya,” Hunk says, patting his shoulder. “Quality of information over quantity.”

“Exactly,” Lance nods.

“Well, I’m calling the Altean merfolk--no take backs,” claims Pidge. “Since my focus is communication and language, learning how their markings work will be the focus of my paper. I’ve even heard rumors of telepathy, not that _that’s_ ever been proven.”

Hunk’s going to continue his study of the spoken Aquan language through the Dolphinians. They love to talk and aren’t nearly as shy as other species. They won’t book it back to the ocean every time they see two legs walking towards them. With their help he’ll be able to create a more reliable translator to improve human/mer relations around the globe.

The others seem to know exactly what they want to do and how they want to do it. They’re so driven with very specific goals. Hunk with his dream of breaking down the barriers of language between species. Pidge with her insatiable curiosity of everything unique and unknown. But for Lance, it feels like he’s just...riding a wave and hoping it’ll take him in the right direction.

They make it back to the Holt residence and spend the rest of their day preparing for tomorrow. Pidge is going through old journals, brushing up on anything involving Alteans. Hunk’s laminating some sheets of paper with dozens of Aquan phrases for easy reference. It’ll make check up time in a couple of days that much easier. And Lance…Lance is staring out the window with a sigh.

Could be that he’s just homesick and feeling a little down. That’s why he’s being so hard on himself. It’s nothing to fret about. No, he’ll wake up bright and early tomorrow, eat a big breakfast, and then head down to the Sanctuary to find the perfect subject for his paper.

But what he can’t get out of his mind as he nods off at his desk is the frothing waters. The slap of waves against the hull of the _Hespera_. And that crimson flash as it streaked by.

Bright red, like freshly spilled blood.

*****

It's midnight and single red-scaled merman sits alone on one of the floating docks. It’s the furthest from the others. Not only because it's on the farthest right side of the bay but because no other mer will approach him. So no matter what float he sat on it would be the farthest from the others.

That’s fine with him. He prefers sitting on his own, quietly looking up at the moon. Used to do this with his parents and doing it now makes him feel calm. At peace. That is until the swirl of water alerts him to an approaching figure. The only mer who ever approaches him.

“ _Worried Keith_?” Shiro asks, resting his arms on the pier and looking up at him.

Keith just shrugs and throws a shell into the water as far as he can.

“ _Don’t be. It’s your first migration. You’re not expected to find someone immediately,_ ” Shiro assures him, resting his head on his arms. “ _Most don’t. I still haven’t._ ”

The red merman gestures dismissively towards the ones on the beach. They’re talking and laughing and eating. Having a grand old time after their long trip. None of them spoke to him the entire way here; why would now be any different? Keith rolls his eyes with a huff and throws another shell.

“ _Don’t fancy them, huh?_ ” Shiro guesses with a sympathetic smile. “ _Any of them?_ ”

Keith shakes his head. With both hands, he gestures to himself and then the others. Puts his hands together and splits them apart like he’s breaking a clam. He’s separate from them.

“ _Too different_ ,” Shiro sighs and Keith nods.

Shiro understands. Keith’s got more reasons than most to feel that way. A rare species on it’s way to extinction. An orphan with only a single friend. Hurt in so many ways that he won’t chance trusting anyone any time soon. Not even among his own people. It’ll make finding a mate difficult.

But Keith’s still young. He has plenty of time.

“ _Then just enjoy the sun. The fish. Think of it as a vacation,_ ” Shiro tells him patting his fluke. “ _Maybe make_ **_one_ ** _friend while you’re here?_ ”

Keith scoffs and gestures at his appearance then to Shiro. With how he looks, who would be his friend? It’s not like he can just fit in with the others. Not with the Dolphinians. Not with the Orcans or even the Koi. Even if he was more like them…

He opens his mouth to prove his point and vocalizes a hum. No words just sounds without meaning to make a lovely short melody. But then when he tries to speak only a strangled noise exits. His throat closes and he chokes. Nothing comes out but stifled attempts at speech that end with coughs and grunts.

Shiro looks on with sympathy as Keith tries again only to get frustrated. He grits his sharp teeth and beats a fist on the float in anger. Another failure to add to the long list of attempts at communicating again.

“ _You’ll find your words again. I’m sure_ ,” Shiro tells him, his voice soft.

Keith just grunts with annoyance but the message is clear. When? It’s been years. He can’t even remember what his voice sounds like anymore.

“ _It’ll come back when you least expect it,_ ” Shiro says, certain. “ _Or when you need it most. So don’t try to force it._ ”

The merman just gives Shiro a curt nod. Not because he agrees but because he doesn’t want to have this conversation again. That is, if you could even call it a conversation, he thinks bitterly. Shiro gives him a nudge and Keith tries to ignore it. But he doesn’t stop, the older mer keeps bumping him until he finally looks down at Shiro’s smiling face.

“ _Want to go look at the land dwellers on the docks?_ ” Shiro suggests. “ _I know how much you like spooking them._ ”

Keith pretends not to be interested as Shiro continues to nudge him. Saying ‘come on’ over and over in his brotherly tone. Eventually, Keith’s lips curl into a smirk as he rolls his eyes. Yeah, admittedly, that does sound like fun. He slips into the water with Shiro, ready to follow him for a spot of harmless fun.

One of Keith’s favorite pastimes is swimming under docks at night.

He loves when the humans sit at the edge sticking their toes in the water. Weird little toes connected to their weird feet and legs. Gangly things. Keith’s not sure how humans manage to swim at all. They aren’t fast and they aren’t good but they still try. He’s even seen a number of humans try to swim in open water with those poor excuses for flippers and it always makes him laugh as they fight against the strong waves.

He never hurts them, of course. Keith just grabs ahold of one of those toes, or brushes his claw gently down the sole of their foot, and the attached human being shoots up with a squeal of surprise. Whether they’re in the water at night or just cooling their feet off the docks, it always brings a smile to his face.

Humans are so...ill equipped for the ocean it's almost comical. No fins. No webbed fingers. No gills. It’s like throwing a monkey into the water. They flounder like a baby mer in the shallows just learning how to use their fins and gills properly. And yet…

Keith watches from behind a boat as a pair of humans stand on the pier. They take each other’s hands and sway to the music of a radio on a yacht. Dancing and laughing at they look into each other’s eyes.

They look so different from one another in appearance. Size. Color. Everything. And yet they kiss and laugh and walk back down the docks as if they haven’t a care in the world.

Must be nice. To be able to walk away from it all and go anywhere they like.

What Keith wouldn’t give…

He sinks into the water with a huff, breathing in the salty brine of the sea. That’s enough spooking humans for the night. It’s lost its allure. He finds Shiro and they return to the bay together.

Shiro swims him to his float and then leaves to join the others in bedding down for the night. He encourages Keith to do the same. Making the most of this migration/vacation starts with a good night’s sleep. Keith doesn’t argue with him, just nods and sinks into the water under the float to breathe easy for a while.

His eyes stay trained on the moon from under the surface, the sight of it a comfort until he finally drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the chapter, give it a kudos! If you really like it, leave a comment or rec it to a friend!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look! A lovely reader made fanart!
> 
> [Merman Keith relaxing on his floating platform!](https://hukkasiipi.tumblr.com/image/183773965685)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, and Edhelwen. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*

**_“What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?_ **  
**_It would be like sleep without dreams.”_ **_  
_ _\--Werner Herzog_

 

Lance is up with the sun. He fell asleep at his desk but someone, likely Hunk, must have carried him over to his bed and tucked him in because he wakes up with his head on a soft fluffy pillow. The moment the sunlight streaks in on his face from the window he bolts up in the bed, suddenly alert and awake.

“Mermaids,” Lance whispers, a smile forming on his face.

He practically throws himself out of bed to get dressed. Mrs. Holt is already cooking breakfast for them when he walks in. Hunk has taken over a section of counter space to prepare lunches for them all. That way they don’t have to come back until nightfall. To get the most out of their observation time.

They only have three months after all.

So they eat a big breakfast. Fill up on toast, eggs, and bacon until ready to burst.

Dr. Holt reminds them to grab their IDs and all of their observation equipment. Binoculars, telephoto lens cameras, recording devices, everything. He’d hate for them to lose valuable time having to ride all the way back because they forgot batteries or chargers. When they’re all finally situated Sam Holt kisses his lovely wife goodbye and they all hop on their bikes for the twenty-minute drive to the bay.

There’s a large fence barring entry to the average citizen, built of stone and steel with electric wires on top. It’s to keep out poachers and anyone who might cause trouble for the merfolk or the scientists studying them.

The only way past the fence is a checkpoint, a small building built into the fence. Not a problem for anyone--if they have a security ID along with registered fingerprint scan. If either of those things are missing then an alarm goes off and a dozen private security guards and the local police are called. The government officials here take trespassing in protected wildlife preserves very seriously. If one doesn’t resist then they’ll just end up with a fine and some jail time.

All the Holts go through first, sliding their cards and pressing their thumbs to a scanner. Approved. Approved. Approved. Security waves them through after buzzing the door. Hunk goes next and they buzz him through.

Lance doesn’t know why but he’s suddenly nervous. It’s not like he hasn’t been here dozens of times already to get the layout of the facility memorized. Guess the idea that the machine might set off the alarm now, now that there’s actually _something_ to see, is terrifying.

But nothing happens. Everything checks out. The guard waves him through and with a great breath of relief, he joins everyone on the other side so they can take the trail down to the bay together.

The main road is wide and paved making it an easy walk downhill. It’s a straight shot to the research building but that’s not where they’re going. They split off from the road to take a little dirt trail into the trees.

This is the fastest way to the beach, though it isn’t the safest. Lance has slid his way down some of the sharp inclines and scraped up his knees a couple of time already. So they hold the rope guides as they go down to prevent more falls. Holt stops them when they’re within sight of the beach. Already in the distance, Lance can see silver gray forms sunning themselves on the sand.

Dolphinians.

It’s a good spot. They can see the beach but stay hidden behind the treeline where the merfolk won’t see them. Or if they do, they won’t view them as a threat. Pidge goes ahead and starts spraying herself and Hunk with bug spray, tossing the bottle to Lance when finished so he can protect himself from the insects for the hours they’re going to be out here.

“Alright, you guys have fun but don’t bother the merfolk,” Holt says. “Matt and I are going to check in with the lab scientists in the main building. We’ll be back in a few hours. Hunk, you’re in charge.”

“Got it, sir,” Hunk nods as they set up for observations.

The bay is absolutely stunning. Lance always thought it was before when he came down to check it out in the weeks previous, but it's even more beautiful now with all the merfolk occupying it. The mystical creatures sit on the dozens of floats in groups, twisting their hair into different styles. Some are swimming and splashing around while others are bringing small nets full of fish ashore. Food offerings for their families and paramours.

Lance looks through his pair of binoculars, smiling with excitement.

“Where’s Shiro?” he asks as he searches. “Ah! Look at that! On that middle float! The Alteans!”

Four of them. It’s hard to tell the sex from here. But culturally the females grow longer hair. From what he can see from here...looks like two females and two males. But he can’t be sure. They flash the bioluminescent markings all down their bodies to communicate with each other, smiling and leaning on one another.

“They’re beautiful,” Hunk awes looking through his camera and snapping shots.

As he takes pictures, Pidge hooks Hunk’s camera into her laptop to look through the images as he takes them. She didn’t bring her own pair of binoculars. Instead, she just enhances the images and takes notes in an open document.

Lance scans the rest of the beach. There are maybe sixty on the sands alone. All in dull monochrome colors. Grey, black, white. His breath catches when a flash of scarlet red streaks by.

So he wasn’t just seeing things. That’s a mer.

He follows the shape as it swims to a float far off from the others. Watches with bated breath as a black-haired mer pulls itself up onto the float with a fish in hand. It sits, red tail swaying in the water, then shoves the fish down its gullet. In one swallow the food is gone.

Something seems off about it.

If Lance was pressed to categorize it he’d say Koi but even that feels wrong. The fins in the place of ears are longer and more rigid, not flowy like a Koi. The same for its dorsal fin. It looks...sharper and pointy. A mutation? It’s nothing like any Koi merfolk he’s ever read about.

“What the hell _is_ that?” Lance whispers to himself.

“What, where?” Hunk asks.

“Easternmost float. The red one by itself,” Lance tells him, still looking through his scope.

“That’s...not a Koi? _Kinda_ looks like one,” Hunk states, though he sounds just as unsure.

“Let me see, Hunk,” Pidge says, taking the camera and zooming in on the float. “It’s probably just-- _holy shit_! I can’t--I can’t believe it!” she shrieks and lets go of the camera to pull out her phone, dialing furiously.

Luckily, Hunk catches the incredibly expensive piece of equipment before it can hit the ground.

“What is it, Pidge?”

“Matt! Give the phone to dad!” Pidge calls into the receiver. “Dad! Dad! There’s a Galra merman on the floats! No, I’m not kidding!”

“Galra?” Lance furrows his brow and looks back at the red merman. “But aren’t they nearly extinct? No one’s seen one in these waters in...decades. And aren’t they supposed to be, well, _not_ red?”

All the books on Galran merfolk, what very few books there are, have them with dark purple scales. And a lot bigger than the one sitting on the float. There aren’t many photographs of them but plenty of artist renditions. Sure looks spiny enough to be Galra. Maybe. Kinda.

Pidge shoulders the phone while her father and brother talk amongst themselves. They need confirmation so Pidge screenshots the pictures Hunk is taking of the red merman, sending them to her father’s email.

“It’s possible he’s just a mutated Koi,” Hunk guesses.

“There’s no way he’s a full Koi,” Pidge shakes her head in disagreement, now talking to them. “He’s mixed at most. Those scales? Akka Bekko Koi. But look at that dorsal fin. And those sharp ridges on his forearm fins? He even has little spines going down his lateral lines! Galra. I’m sure of it.”

Hunk takes another picture and pulls it up on Pidge’s screen. She enhances it, zooming in on the face caught in mid-yawn. Like a shark.

“Jeez look at those teeth! Koi don’t have teeth like that,” Pidge bubbles with excitement. “Dad’s going to lose his mind.”

Lance looks through the specs again, adjusting to sharpen the image. He spots Shiro finally and he’s approaching the red merman. Once there he leans on the float and talks with him. It’s clear they’re familiar. The Galra gestures to him but never opens his mouth. Not once.

A type of sign language? Is that indicative of Galran culture? Lance doesn’t know. He doubts anyone would know.

So little is written about the Galra. Lance can count the number of papers and books he’s read about them on one hand. They were so notoriously dangerous that most were hunted to near extinction hundreds of years ago before any of the protective laws were put in place.

“No, Dad, I’m serious!” she repeats. “I think I’d know Galran traits when I saw them. This has to be the first sighting in Hawaii--in like, twenty years! Maybe longer!”

“I call him!” Lance finally speaks.

The other two stare in mute silence, confusion on their face.

“What?” Hunk quirks a brow.

“For my thesis,” Lance clarifies. “Dibs on the Galra merman for my paper. No take backs!”

“What, no!” Pidge exclaims, dropping the phone. It turns itself off as it hits the ground and she continues to stammer. “B-But--”

“You already chose the Altean ones! That one’s mine. I called him!” Lance points at the red merman and Pidge looks to Hunk, distress on her face.

“Can he--?”

“He did call it, Pidge. Those were your rules,” Hunk tells her with a tight smile.

“What if my dad wants to study him?” Pidge proposes.

“He can study him all he wants but _I’m_ writing _my_ paper on him,” Lance declares and gathers his things in his bag.

“What specifically though? Physiology? Culture? Language?” Hunk asks and curiously stares at Lance. “What are you doing, Lance?”

“I’m going to get a closer look at my case study,” Lance tells them and shoulders his bag as he stands.

“Lance--”

“Calm down mother goose,” Lance tells Hunk. “I’ll stay in the treeline.  He won’t even know I’m there. Like a ninja. And I’ve got the walky if you need me.”

He doesn’t stick around to hear any more arguments from either of them. Hunk’s in charge but he’s not the sort to assert authority over a good friend. So Lance takes off following the treeline to the other side of the bay. He keeps to the edges, using the foliage to keep his presence hidden. Even starts crawling when he gets close.

Details. He needs to see this guy up close.

He creeps up on his hands and knees into some bushes and lays down in them. A good view of the farthest float. He checks with his binoculars and finds it empty. The Galran is gone for the moment so he pulls out his sketchbook and pencils, readying them for when he returns.

It’s sooner rather than later. The merman pulls himself up onto the float again, another fish in his claws. He tilts his head back and slides the small fish past his lips, swallowing it whole. While he eats, Lance draws what he sees.

Long, thick tail with wide crimson scales. Just like any other Koi but now that he’s closer Lance can see he isn’t solid red. On occasion, there’s an off-color scale, dark purple. Like having freckles. His dorsal fin is folded down, flat against his back while out of the water and he can’t see his tail fin but he guesses it’s webbed like the Koi, not solid like the Dolphinians.

Pidge was right about the lateral spine spikes. They go down the entire length of his tail. Sharp and the same pearl white as his teeth. The little spikes on his forearm fins look like dangerous weapons on their own but his claws are a force to be reckoned with too. When he yawns all Lance sees are razor-sharp teeth.

Now _that’s_ an apex predator mer.

Galra. The oldest sailor stories said it took ten men to kill a pureblood one and Lance believes it. Pods of them took down entire ships. At least they did until the 1820s. The rocket-powered harpoon guns decimated Galra numbers and they never fully recovered. The conservation teams have tried to encourage the return of the Galra but almost all refuse to use the sanctuaries. They prefer to stay hidden in their deep ocean trenches despite the dangers.

So why is this one here? To find a mate? If that’s the case, why is he alone?

These migrations’ primary purposes are to follow the food. Fish are plentiful here this time of year. But the secondary purpose is to find mates. For a species in need of repopulating, this half Galra should be presenting himself to the others, not isolating himself. That thought is interrupted when the merman dives into the ocean again.

While he’s gone, Lance writes down some of his observations and hypotheses with an excited grin.

*****

Keith comes back up from his dive with yet another fish. Takes his seat on the float and swallows it down with no effort. He looks over his shoulder at the other folk gathering on the beach. Sunning themselves and talking. No worries.

He could join them but...why bother? None of them want anything to do with him. If they ever meet his eyes it’s never for more than a second before they look away, uncomfortable. Not even the other Koi look his way for long before returning to their conversations.

The closest any mer get, other than Shiro, is a couple dozen yards. Like the mother and child forty feet away. A Dolphinian teaching her daughter how to hold her breath for longer.

“ _Mama!_ ” the little girl calls out and points at the treeline. “ _Mama, I saw a land walker! There!_ ”

The mother doesn’t believe her, just tugs her along back to their pod. The girl insists she saw it but the mother pats her head. Don’t be silly. Humans don’t come this close, so don’t worry.

“ _Even if they did, Mama will protect you_ ,” she tells her child and grabs her for a hug, blowing a raspberry on her cheek.

Keith looks up where the child pointed with curiosity. Doesn’t look like there’s--wait. Something moved in the bushes there. An animal? He narrows his eyes and focuses.

A human.

Shiro said there might be a few watching over them. Scholars or something like it. This one is hiding in the bush and writing something in a book. He’s holding a pair of binoculars to look at them.

No, wait--not them. At him. That human is watching him. When the specs come up again Keith averts his gaze with a frown. Doesn’t want the human to know that Keith knows he’s hiding there.

He dives off the float and moves out of the line of sight to a different area. Almost immediately the man cranes his neck, trying to locate him again. That makes him the curious sort then.

Keith has to wonder how curious...and how foolish.

With a smirk, he swims over to the beach nearest the onlooker. It’s populated by several other merfolk that slink back into the water and away from him as he climbs his way up the sands a little. Once he’s a good twenty feet from the treeline Keith takes a seat and gives his back to the peeping stranger, reclining a little to look up at the blue sky.

Lance can’t believe this. What are the chances that he’d move even closer? This puts him so close for observations now that he doesn’t even need the binoculars.

Dark shoulder length hair that he tussles and combs his fingers through to untangle. Webbed pointed ear fins. Slick water drops trickling down his shoulders and the small of his back where his red scales begin. Huge dorsal, still folded down. His tail swoops over the wet sand and his fin (webbed just like Lance thought!) pats the beach, smoothing it in waves.

Keith scratches at a loose scale before pulling it free. It’ll replace itself in a day or two. No worries. Seemingly uninterested, he flicks the scale haphazardly over his shoulder a mere five feet behind him. It lands without a sound into the sand. Lance bites his lip as he stares at it.

A half Galra merman scale. The kinds of tests he could run on that--buoyancy, density, a full genetic breakdown, etc. But if it gets buried in the sand he’ll lose it.

Lance then has a thought...a terrible, risky, foolish thought. Maybe he can...sneak over there and get it without the merman noticing? None of the other merfolk are anywhere near him...no one would see, right?

He shoves the little blue notebook and pen into his pocket. He slips his flip flops off. Then slowly, Lance crawls out of the brush before standing a little hunched over.

So far so good. No one sees him.

The sand muffles his steps as he moves forward one footfall at a time. He gets down low and takes his calculated steps forward. So close. And it looks like the merman hasn’t noticed him. Lance’s eyes flick to the scale and back up onto the mer. Keeping his eyes up he slowly bends...reaches down...hand extending to the shining red scale.

The movement is so fast and unexpected--there was no precursor of behavior that could have prepared Lance for the way the mer abruptly turns with a spitting guttural hiss.

Lance flings himself backward on his ass with a wide-eyed gasp. The scale gets buried in the movement but that’s hardly what he cares about now. The red merman’s fins are all rigid and pointing up. His lips curled back into a snarl with teeth flashing. His dorsal fin is unfolded and fanned high in an attempt to make him look larger, more fierce, and dangerous--to scare Lance.

It’s certainly working.

The radio on Lance’s hip beeps with an incoming message. “Lance, get the hell out of there,” Pidge whispers urgently into the receiver at him.

He would but he can’t feel his legs. They’re paralyzed with fear, tingling like they’ve fallen asleep. He may even be trembling a little. His eyes can’t focus on anything but the sharp claws on the mer’s webbed hands. Now that he’s close, he can see; this mer is littered with scars...a fighter.

“Lance, crawl backward slowly,” Hunk whispers next. “No sudden movements.”

When Lance doesn’t immediately move Keith bares his teeth and hisses again, making his whole body jump and shake a little more. Then the merman starts stalking his way forward through the sand.

Lance panics with a squeak, finally finding his legs and scuttling backward like a crab. He then rolls and scrambles to his feet to take off for where it's significantly safer with a frightened yelp. When he turns to look behind him it appears the mer isn’t pursuing him any further than the two feet he initially attempted. Probably more energy than he wants to expend on land and Lance just isn’t worth the effort.

When Lance gets to the treeline he leans on a palm tree trunk and catches his breath, hand on his rapidly beating heart. The size of the merman is still just as intimidating at this distance, so he takes an extra step away while looking back.

He’s as big as a fucking Risso dolphin--at least twelve feet long from head to tip of his tail. Maybe bigger! Jesus, those claws. And those teeth! He looked ready to tear Lance into--hold on. Something’s different now.

The Galra is sitting up and staring at Lance, face stern and glaring. Then a haughty smile spreads on the merman’s face until it’s a wicked toothy grin. He raises a fist to his mouth and stifles his snorts of laughter. Laughing. That mer is _laughing_ at him.

“That little shit--” Lance whispers under his breath, a hint of annoyance.

He was fucking with Lance. Probably threw that scale over his shoulder on purpose knowing it would draw him out. To bring him in closer. So he could catch Lance off guard and scare the absolute shit out of him.

The red merman crawls back into the water, still chuckling to himself. In record time, he’s back on his floating platform. He doesn’t spare Lance another look, just kicks back and sunbathes with a victorious smirk.

“You’re lucky you’re not dead, Lance,” Pidge tells him.

“Yeah, all the stories say Galra--if that’s what he is-- aren’t known for their calm and peaceful demeanor,” Hunk adds.

“Those claws and teeth aren’t for show,” Pidge warns him. “He could have shredded you.”

He didn’t though. Lance can’t wrap his head around it. He could have eviscerated Lance and yet...it was like he was playing a game with him. Pranking Lance. Scaring him... _for fun_.

What a weird creature. Unique appearance. Strange behavior.

He’s going to make for an excellent paper.

“Heading back to you,” Lance says into the walky and gathers his things to take back to the camp.

When he gets back to them Dr. Holt is back with Matt. They’ve been looking over the pictures Hunk’s taken. They aren’t nearly as clear or detailed as Lance’s close-up drawings which he shares freely with the others as a way of making up for his dumb decision to get too close. Holt and Matt look over the sketches with pensive looks as they talk.

“I can’t believe--yes. Definitely Galra, or half at the very least,” hums Holt. “I haven’t seen one here in...over twenty years. Some go longer than that before seeing one.”

“They’re reclusive and volatile towards humans,” Matt chips in. “Have you seen what they do to deep sea probes in the trenches? Decimated.”

“I don’t blame them. It’s our fault that they’re almost all gone,” Holt sighs sadly.

He hands the sketchbook back to Lance.

“Now then, we have work to do. It can’t all be fun and games,” Holt smiles and pulls out a large binder.

Today they need only catalog the arrivals in their binder. It’s got pictures and data on all the mer that have been to the sanctuary and when they were last seen. Keeps track of how old they are and how long they’ve been coming and when they stop coming. Even lists all the pairings and family trees that they are aware of.

Lance flips through a little and finds a photo of Shiro.

100% Shiro Utsuri Koi. Proposed age anywhere between thirty and forty years. It’s hard to discern age as the merfolk have ridiculously long lifespans and reach maturity for mating around the age of twenty. Since he’s been migrating to this sanctuary for ten years it’s assumed his age is somewhere around their guess. No chosen mate or partner. No immediate family.

“We need to update the photos of returns and add in the new arrivals,” Holt tells them. “So, photos Hunk, if you please, and the rest of you will identify and input the data to improve the log.”

It’s drudge work, but it’s necessary for them to accumulate accurate data for funding. No point in paying for a sanctuary and improvements for said sanctuary if the numbers are going down and new merfolk aren’t being born. That’s almost never the case with this facility, but someone’s got to run the numbers or they’ll lose out on some grants.

After an hour of photos being taken and data being logged, Hunk lets out an annoyed huff. Not a rare sound but uncommon enough to prompt a look from Pidge and Lance.

“That red one is a pain,” he mumbles, raising his camera again trying for another shot. “He’s so far and he won’t turn to face the beach. Can’t get good ones of his face.”

“I’m not familiar with any other red Koi that he may have come from,” Holt says with a thoughtful hum. “Assuming it even is a he.”

“It could be a she?” Pidge blinks with surprise.

“Some species are difficult to discern,” Matt says with a shrug. “There are a few species with little to no sexual dimorphism. Some South American species have been discovered to be hermaphroditic. And since we know very little about the Galra...it could be anything.”

“Lance, you saw it up close,” Hunk nods. “Thoughts on the sex or gender of the Galra mer for the binder?”

“Uh, I’m thinking male,” Lance says, looking through his sketches.

He digs into his pocket but his pen’s gone. Must have dropped it in the treeline somewhere. He takes the one from behind Pidge’s ear and uses it as a pointer for his drawings.

Other than his chest (which looked very much male to him) only one feature reminiscent of male Koi was apparent up close--larger pectoral fins that are pointed instead of rounded. But that’s all he can really base his conclusion off of. As close at he was, not pissing himself in abject terror was higher on his list of priorities than looking for merfolk sex traits.

“He was talking with Shiro,” Lance starts but then corrects himself. “Er, more like Shiro was talking to him. I don’t think he can speak. He uses gestures.”

“Odd. The only species without vocal chords are the Alteans,” Holt taps his chin. “Perhaps he damaged them somehow.”

“Or was born with a defect,” Matt guesses and then snaps with a realization. “That might explain why he isn’t with his own people.”

“And being half Galra...the others are afraid of him,” Hunk chimes in with his own hypothesis. “Probably why I haven’t seen a single mer present themselves to him. He’s an outsider.”

How sad. An outcast among his already small race of people.

“But Shiro was talking with him?” Matt muses. “I’ll ask him about him on the boat in a couple days. Any insight into the Galra merfolk will help to better understand them.”

“And you, Lance,” Holt says a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I understand you want to write your thesis on him? The Galra?”

“Yeah, I called dibs!” he says excitedly but then tones down. “I mean...yes, sir. I would like to.”

“It’s fine, but--” Holt chuckles but his eyes are serious. “Perhaps you should choose a less dangerous subject. Not all merfolk are friendly. Shiro keeps it fairly peaceful here but intruding on their space is needlessly reckless.”

Lance knows a parental scolding when he hears it and ducks his head in shame. If Lance had gotten injured or even killed by that merman...he hates to think of the phone call Dr. Holt would have to make to his mother back in Cuba. Guilt tears at his stomach when he thinks of how dumb that was.

“Next time, just wait for us. We might be able to get Shiro to introduce us to a few for study,” Holt encourages with a few pats. “Safer ones that won’t want to claw your eyes out? Hmm?”

“I understand,” Lance nods. “But I still want to study the Galra. I’ll just be more careful.”

“Better than nothing. I’ll take it,” Holt chuckles and then turns to address them all. “Come on, we have half a day still left and date on fifty more merfolk to enter.”

*****

The day reaches its end faster than it should have. Lance can’t believe it. They spent the whole time filling in logs, updating information, and observing from a distance and the day feels like it’s over too quickly. Luckily, with the five of them they’ll be able to finish the binder quickly but so far--

One hundred and fifty-six merfolk. Fifteen more than last year. Good news for the sanctuary.

Now that dinner’s over, all the little scientists are in their respective spots preparing for what they’ll be doing once the cataloging is over in a couple days. Hunk’s practicing his Aquan pronunciation with headphones in the living room. Pidge taps away furiously on her laptop, only stopping to drink water on occasion. Matt’s listening to something of his own out on the porch while his parents talk in the kitchen during clean up.

Lance merely sits at his desk at the window again, but instead of staring out in the bay’s direction, he’s entirely focused on the sketchbook laid out before him. He pulls a pencil from his ‘Welcome to Hawaii’ coffee cup and scratches it on the pages.

He’s trying to pencil in more details of the half-Galra from memory but it’s shoddy. The only exact details he can remember are claws and teeth so he draws those over and over. Bared teeth and razor-sharp claws.

“Christ, they were intense,” Lance shakes his head with a sigh as he draws.

He draws them snarling and bared but then drifts to that fiendish smile. ‘Devious’ seems a little too evil for a descriptor. ‘Puckish’ is probably closer. A teasing playfulness. A prankster’s smile. There was certainly more than just pure viciousness.

Lance wonders if the mer understands English at all. Suppose it isn’t a big deal if he doesn’t. He can always write a paper on physiology instead of language. And damn! He mentally scolds himself, knocking his head with his knuckles. If he’d gotten that scale he could be looking at it under a microscope right now.

“What a waste,” he groans as he leans back in his seat with the pencil under his nose.

With a huff, he rises to his feet and goes to the standing bookshelf. It’s Pidge’s research shelf full of everything she’s ever read about mermaids. Research papers. Books. Urban legends. There are even children’s stories at the bottom. Looks a lot like the ones he has back home in all honesty.

Lance pulls down an old book of mermaid legends and flips through with a smile. Most of the stories inside are magical and silly. Sailors tales of how mermaids came to be.

The most popular story is that when humans coupled with ocean spirits a mermaid was birthed. Others tell of a magical transformation through the use of potions and concoctions or deals. Some legends say that mermaids have always existed, a race ever-present but hidden in the depths until science could explain them. Those all seem such positive stories, but Lance frowns when he’s reminded of some not so kind stories.

Slave boats overturned as they crossed the ocean in a storm. The people inside with their feet chained together in the hull, with no way to escape. Men and women pushed off the plank with their legs latched to cannonballs. Despair and the pressured depths pushing in on them from all sides. The salty brine filling their lungs as they begged the sea for the strength to fight back. That desire freed and cursed them to a life bound instead to the ocean. Their humanity removed and replaced with loathing for those who lived on shore, all so they could have their revenge.

“Ridiculous,” Lance says but a shiver trembles down his spine at the image.

A couple of centuries later and scientists are no closer to discovering the origins of the merfolk than they were when the creatures were harpooned for their meat. Many claimed that mer flesh was a delicacy. Others said it was magical, thought to cure any ailment or even bring about eternal life. Foolish and untrue, but such beliefs had devastating effects on the merfolk populations worldwide.

Now it’s up to protected places like this to keep them safe. For study and repopulating. Different sanctuaries are open at different times of the year when food is most plentiful. Ireland’s got a nice facility. Cape Cod and the Cape of Good Hope have good ones too. There are smaller ones popping up here and there too. Before they know it, every country will have one.

In time, they can unravel the mysteries of the Aquan races--with the merfolk’s help. A road back to the thriving people they once were. That thought finally brings a smile back to Lance’s face as he puts the book back away. It’s time to hit the hay.

He flicks the light switch and drops into his pillow with a sigh. As tired as he is from the day, he’s excited. In a couple days, they’ll go out on the boat again and maybe he’ll be able to talk to Shiro about this red merman.

Lance thinks, no, he knows, he can be the one to discover something truly amazing through this mer.

He’s certain of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, and Edhelwen. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*
> 
> Also! The amazing Atobe has drawn some fanart of mer Keith! [Check it out!](https://thepurrincessatobe.tumblr.com/post/183868060410/i-colored-in-keith-all-those-lovely-details-in)  
> 

CHAPTER 3

 

 **_“All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide_ ** ****  
**_like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide;_ ** ****  
**_but a hidden star can still be smiling_ ** ****  
**_at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling.”_ ** _  
_ _\--Munia Khan_

  


They take the _Hespera_ out at sunrise on the fourth day of the migration. The whole team is ready to get back out to the ocean for what Matt calls ‘the meet and greet’. But first they’re going to have Shiro meet them just outside the bay on the ocean side of the man-made sandbar.

The sandbar keeps them from getting their big boat into the sanctuary and for good reason. Keeps poachers out and the merfolk safe. But a nice little dingy can get over without too much trouble. The one they’re taking is one Pidge made with her dad when she was ten. She named it _Red Rover_ in honor of its paint job.

Lance wonders why they don’t do the meet and greet on the beach. It’s gotta be less work than taking the boat out, driving around the island to the sanctuary, and taking a dingy over the sandbar. Matt explains the mer don’t like meeting humans on the land. It makes them feel vulnerable and strains relations. A little extra work meeting them in a boat is a show of good faith. Humans out of their element in the water where the mer are more comfortable.

Hard to argue with that.

Pidge talks the whole way about her prospective paper. It’s going to be on the biology of the Alteans’ bodies and their bio-luminescent pulses. The chemical breakdown and such. It’s all very technical; she keeps reminding them that even if she explained it in layman's terms, they’d still probably be lost. They believe her.

Hunk’s set to continue his ongoing research into Aquan language with the help of the Dolphinians. He already has a strong rapport with a couple of them from last year and it looks like they made it again this year. Perfect for adding to his translation programs and making communication that much easier for everyone involved. He’s even brought his waterproof recording equipment for the meet and greet.

Lance is busy looking through his binoculars for the flash of red in the water. He doesn’t see it. Not even at the far float. Must be resting in one of the underwater caves. Or hunting. Damn.

“Incoming!” Matt announces and seconds later the _Hespera_ shakes a little as Shiro climbs up the ladder.

“Good morning!” Shiro smiles at everyone once he reaches the top. Matt and Hunk help him the rest of the way with a tug.

“Morning Shiro,” Matt laughs. “Did everyone make it in?”

“Some are late but most are here,” he answers with a nod.

The older Holts talk to him for a while about the new arrivals with the binder out for him to look at. They clear up a few questions to fill out the appropriate information on a few family lines while he’s here. This is when Pidge inserts herself into the conversation to ask about the Alteans. She wants to know their connections in relation to one another and if they’re ready to meet with the scientists.

“They’re still hesitant,” Shiro admits sheepishly. “They’ve never been close to humans before.”

“How close do you think they’ll let us get?” Matt wonders.

From where they are now it looks like the Alteans are all sitting on a central float. They flash their markings at each other in quick rhythmic pulses and smile. One of the females is twisting the other’s hair into silver braids.

“It might be best to hang back and let them come to you,” Shiro says with a smile. “I did tell them you mean no harm. So if they want to come close, they will.”

“We can at least get some pictures in,” Hunk suggests patting Pidge’s shoulder to cheer her up. “Maybe once the migration is in full swing, they’ll let us get closer.”

“Lance, didn’t you have a question for Shiro?” Matt calls out. “Lance?”

Lance is a million miles away. He’s got his feet hooked into the railing and leaning out with his binoculars. Hardly paying attention to them at all as he searches the waters. It takes Pidge throwing a marker at him before he notices and  hops down.

“You had a question,” Matt points to the merman.

“Oh. Oh yeah! Right!” Lance blinks with memory and comes much closer. He gets down to his knees the way Matt is so he can be level with Shiro’s soft eyes.

God, he’s so beautiful. All the merfolk are. And for a second he’s struck by that awe that he’s finally achieving his dream. But then his thoughts come back and he shakes his head with a cough.

“The spiky red merman. The outsider. Is he--would he let me study him?” Lance finally asks.

Shiro pauses with uncertainty and bites his lower lip in thought.

“You mean Keith,” he says. Shiro looks hesitant to talk but smiles anyway. “I don’t think he can help you much with your studies. He can’t speak. And he doesn’t understand your tongue.”

“But he’d be _perfect_ for my paper. Look,” Lance says, pulling out his sketchbook. Shiro looks on with keen interest at the drawings before giving an impressed nod. “I’ve already got a bunch of sketches but I need detailed measurements. Scale and blood samples for medical review.”

Shiro looks out to the bay but there’s no red merman in sight. He seems to be considering the outcome of this very seriously. That, or he’s trying to find his words so it’ll make sense when he speaks. After all, English is his second language, he wants to be careful with how he uses his words. With a sigh, he answers.

“It will be...difficult,” Shiro tells him. “Keith does not trust easily. He may not cooperate.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t try?” Lance asks, worry in his eyes.

“No, no,” Shiro chuckles. “Feel free to try. But I would ready yourself with a ‘back-up’ plan?”

“Is that a good idea?” Hunk worries. “He nearly shredded Lance yesterday. Is he safe to be around?”

“Keith can be very dangerous,” Shiro admits then shakes his head. “But not to humans, I think. I’ll let him know you’re interested in studying him.”

It’s better than nothing, so Lance will take it.

Time for the meet and greet. Shiro slides off the deck and back into the ocean with a splash. He waits for them down there, steadying the dinghy for them once it’s in the water. They can only take three out at a time with the small boat, so for now, Lance and Matt hang out on the _Hespera_ while Hunk, Pidge, and her father go first.

They paddle out to the sandbar and drag the boat over the sand until it’s back into the water of the bay. Shiro climbs across the sand and meets them on the other side. Once there, he directs them to the meeting point, a float that’s pretty close to the perimeter of the bay.

Shiro’s told the lot of merfolk who are interested to come and get familiar with the scientists. If for no other reason than to be able to recognize them from a distance. That way they won’t panic if they see humans on the beach. The first ones to come and look at them are the Dolphinians.

The Dolphinian species is an eternally curious sort. Their heads bob out of the water as they stare with interest at the humans. A few minutes later, several rambunctious types who recognize Hunk splash up to the boat and hang off it. They chatter in both languages for a bit which encourages younger ones to come closer. There are even several Koi coming to take a peek.

But Lance is focused on other things.

Lance leans on the railing of the bigger boat with Matt and searches the landscape again. He silently gasps when he finally catches sight of the red merman, Keith, on his float far off. He’s lounging in the sun, his fin dipped into the water. This is a good spot to see him from so Lance passes the binoculars to Matt as he points.

“There he is,” Lance gestures.

“Hmm...he’s not very big as far as Galran records go. They get to about...20 feet on average. He barely looks like he makes twelve,” Matt comments. “Maybe it’s cause he’s young. Late twenties. Twenty five tops.”

“He scared the absolute piss out of me yesterday,” Lance admits. “I thought he was going to slice me open and I ran like a chicken.”

“And you want to do your case study on him?” Matt asks and then whistles. “Good luck. God those teeth…” he mumbles.

“He laughed at me after,” Lance tells him and takes the binoculars back. Keith’s still there, content to simply sun himself by his lonesome.

“Really? Laughed at you?”

“Yeah, makes me think he’s not actually violent. Just a punk,” Lance concludes with a huff.

It might mean something, considering what all the legends say about Galra merfolk. Rumors say that they’re _all_ volatile, but since humans hardly ever see them anymore...Lance has to wonder how true that is. Much of that lore is based on the bloody history of sailors killing them and them killing sailors. No one knows who started it and no one is going to have positive things to say about the other.

He has to wonder how much of the fear stems from appearance. They are intimidating. And when you’re treated like a bloodthirsty monster long enough, it’s easier to become one. To accept the role given to them. Lance can easily see animosity rising from mistreatment between different races of humans. Why would it be any different between species of merfolk?

Could be that everyone is wrong about the Galra. If Lance can prove that, it’s one step closer to understanding and reestablishing another subspecies of merfolk into the Aquan community.

“Look!” Lance says, passing the binoculars back.

Shiro’s gone over to Keith’s float for a moment. The red merman sits up with a huff but gives his visitor half a smile. As Shiro talks, Keith face grows unamused. Then turns into a blatant frown.

“Looks like he’s letting him know that you wanna study him,” Matt says and hands the specs back for Lance to see.

Keith’s rolling his eyes and gesturing at Shiro. Some of the motions come across as rigid and almost rude but it’s not like Lance can translate their meaning. Shiro gives him an imploring look with a smile. Nudges him over and over until Keith gives him playful slap with his fin. Keith gently shoves him into going away and Shiro returns to the beach to encourage others to visit with the scientists.

The red merman continues to sit there with a contemplative frown, but then a mischievous grin spreads on his face as he kicks back again. Lance doesn’t like the look of that. He knows a scheming troublemaker when he sees one. Comes from being one himself for most of his life.

“You’re up, Lance,” calls a voice from down in the dinghy. He hadn’t realized they were back.

Hunk’s already at the top and pulling an excited Pidge onto the deck. Her words are going a mile a minute as she rushes to find her laptop. She needs to type stuff before she forgets these great ideas she’s got. Hardly takes notice of her brother or Lance at all as she whips it open and starts typing away.

Lance, Matt, and Dr. Holt make the trip back out to the float again. This time it’s swarming with merfolk and Lance can’t believe his eyes.

They’re all so close. A couple of dozen Dolphinians tread water around the boat. Some Koi are sitting on the adjacent float and looking curiously at him. Most of them speak in Aquan so Lance can’t catch much but the Holts do their best to translate if they can.

One thing’s for sure, they’re all _cute_.

Some have long flowing hair, others short, some straight, others in pretty coils. A couple have their hair plaited into tight braids with shells tied in. The Koi have finned ears with gill slits along their necks and bright shining scales. The Dolphinians have smooth skin in shades of grey ranging from pale to almost charcoal. They don’t have ear fins at all, just holes hidden behind their locks of hair. No gill slits for them either.

Most can’t understand him but he introduces himself anyway.

“My name is Lance,” he says with a beaming smile. “Nice to meet you!”

When he reaches out, a couple of brave Dolphinians take his hand and shake it. They’re the ones that know a little more of human customs and understand the speech. They say hello in their language first before saying it in his.

“Hello, La...Lance,” one mouths out, unused to speaking this way.

“Lance!” Another one cheers with excitement when she gets it right.

“Surf with us!” one says in English and the others giggle with clicking noises. “You. Hunk. Pigeon. Go surf with us!”

“Maybe in a couple of days? Are we allowed to do that?” Lance asks, looking at the Holts. They give him a nod so he turns back with a smile. “Then yeah! Of course! In a few days, we’ll surf!”

“Yes! Yes!”

The five in front of him, all Dolphinians, clap and click with excitement. He might even recognize one as the girl who gave him his first merfolk high five.

He still can’t believe his eyes. All his life dreaming of being this close to actual merfolk and now it’s happening. Lance looks up to check the float across the way only to find it empty.

Keith’s gone.

“Incoming,” Matt announces, but his tone is more warning than playful like before.

The merfolk nearby, all of them, scatter with squeals and it’s easy to see why. A red streak is heading straight for the boat...at ramming speed. Lance immediately takes a seat and grips tight on the sides, bracing for impact.

Instead of hitting the boat head on, Keith goes under it and bumps the bottom hard with his tail. It shakes and unsteadies the boat for a second, but that’s long enough to startle them.

Matt said he wasn’t big, but Keith’s still large enough to flip them. The red merman does a sharp turn and hits them again, violently jostling the boat a second time. Water sloshes into the floorboards as he does it again, making the boat creak.

“Bit of a firecracker, this one,” Holt chuckles.

“I thought he was going to flip us,” Matt sighs with relief when the next hit doesn’t come immediately.

“He still might. I wouldn’t put it past him,” Lance says nervously. “He’d probably do it with a smile.”

Keith returns and bumps them a couple more times, some of which rock the boat dangerously close to tipping over. But then he just smacks it again with his tail as he passes to sway it the other way. Keeping it rocking but mostly stable. When he’s finished he pops his head out of the water to get a look at their faces.

The scientists are holding tight to the boat edges with nervous smiles on their faces. Scared but trying to keep their composure. Humans looks so funny when they’re rattled. It makes Keith cover his mouth for a laugh. When they figure out he’s finished messing with them for now, they relax.

“Looks like he’s done,” Matt sighs.

“Hope so,” Lance swallows. He’d hate to ruin his shoes. And thank goodness he left his notebook on the _Hespera_. If Keith changes his mind and decides to tip them, then at least his sketches are safe.

“Look how close he is, Dad,” Matt awes. “Look at that coloration...almost like blood.”

Lance chances a look over the boat edge and finds that it’s true. Keith’s only a couple yards away, treading water with his massive red fluke. Lance squints when he thinks he sees something underwater in the mer’s hand. It’s--

“Hey! That’s my pen!” Lance exclaims as he points. “Give it back you little thief,” he says and gestures for the object.

Keith looks down at the pen and raises a questioning brow back a Lance. Then he frowns indignantly. If he doesn’t understand the words he definitely understands Lance’s tone--and he doesn’t care for it. He’s about to pointedly drop the pen so that it sinks to the bottom of the bay but Lance points at him.

“Don’t you do it, Keith,” Lance warns and Keith blinks at him in shock. Probably didn’t know Lance knew his name. “I know you know what I want. Give. It. Back,” he says emphatically and gestures for the pen again.

Keith narrows his eyes, suspicious of Lance before he sinks into the water just enough that his eyes stay above the surface. He cautiously comes closer, slowly, while still glaring slightly. Then he stops a few feet from the boat. The pen just barely raises out of the water.

Lance can’t believe he’s doing what he asked so he leans over the boat and reaches out for it.

“Careful, Lance,” Holt reminds him.

“Shiro said he wouldn’t hurt me,” Lance whispers under his breath, afraid if he’s too loud Keith will bolt.

He leans and reaches. Any further and he’ll topple out of the boat but...this is the closest he’s gotten to Keith’s face without it hissing at him.

His finned ears poke out from the ocean and drip with water. Red along the edges with translucent pinkish webbing. The gill slits on his neck have tiny spines on them and they move as they push out water to filter oxygen. He has steel colored irises and circular pupils. Huh, that falls in line with Koi attributes...they’re not golden or slitted like the deep sea Galra.

Fascinating.

Lance wraps his fingers around the pen and to his surprise Keith releases it into his hold.  He could almost smile at how amiable that was.

“Now that wasn’t so ba--”

Water hits his face as Keith raises and spits out a stream of brine at him. It soaks his face, his hair, and runs down his neck into his shirt. Matt bursts with laughter, clutching his stomach at the sight of Lance looking like a drowned rat. Sam chuckles to himself as Lance lets out a deep resigned sigh.

“Thanks,” Lance says sarcastically and lowers his voice to a grumble. “You big asshole.”

Keith looks more than pleased with himself, giving a victorious smirk while Lance wipes his face. Lance fishes into his pocket for a handkerchief and commences drying off.

For the lot of good it does him because seconds later Keith submerges. He raises his tail and slams it down into the ocean to send a fresh splash of water, this one drenching the whole of Lance’s person. His shirt, pants, and everything down to his socks. With that splash, the red merman takes off for his platform and kicks back yet again with a victorious grin.

“What a dick,” Lance huffs trying to shake most of the water off.

“And you want to write your paper on him,” Holt chuckles.

“He didn’t get either of you wet?”

“Nope just you. And he took your pen again,” Matt points out. “You know, when he spat on you?”

“ _Sprayed_ me,” Lance corrects, as it sounds more dignified than ‘spat on’. “What did I ever do to you?!” Lance shouts, shaking his fist at him. Keith doesn’t react at all.

“Maybe it’s karma,” Matt suggests.

“What? Me? I never did anything to warrant _that_!”

“Maybe not in this life,” Matt chuckles.

“Let’s head back to the _Hespera_ , boys,” Dr. Holt suggests with a smile. “After all that excitement, I doubt any of the mermaids are coming back today. Besides, we have pictures to develop and Lance needs to change his socks.”

*****

Keith sits on his float as the sun sets, twirling Lance’s waterlogged pen in his fingers.

What a buffoon. Did he really think Keith wasn’t going to mess with him again after what happened last time? Keith didn’t think anyone could be that gullible and naive once, let alone twice.

Shiro said his name was...something, and that he’s one of the young scientists. Said that he really wants to study Keith. He snorts that that. Poor guy should just give up. Like he’d let some human prod him with tools just to sate his curiosity.

Man, the other merfolk booked it out of there so fast. Treating him like he was a shark coming in for the kill. Nevermind that they have no basis for a belief like that. Sure, they’ve seen him kill a dozen sharks and squids but nothing more than that. All they see are the claws, the teeth, and the spikes...then they turn tail in fear, as if he’s one step away from eating his own kind.

Makes Keith snort again. That’s why he’s so sure he’ll never find a mate. Not that he cares.

Not even the other half of his gene pool, the Koi, will approach him if they don’t have to. They just tolerate his presence because of who his father was.

His father was an Aka Bekko Koi. He was respected and revered. Doesn’t mean they have to like Keith and they don’t, but Koi don’t abandon family no matter how far down the line they are.

Only Shiro seems to give a crap about him. He was good friends with Keith’s father. Distant cousins or something. It’s why he’s taken Keith under his wing. The other Koi are glad for it. They may not say it...but they’re just as scared of him as the rest of them are.

As long as Shiro’s around, they don’t have to talk to Keith at all.

Which is why it’s so strange that this human wants to be around him. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is? Or, well, how dangerous he _could_ be? He’s killed a bull shark. By himself. On multiple occasions. It would take nothing at all to end some weak little biped if he had the inclination.

A rippling splash wakes Keith of his musings. Shiro nudges his side with his elbow and Keith sits up.

“ _Good day?_ ” Shiro guesses from the neutral look on his face.

Keith just shrugs dismissively. He supposes it was good. Startling humans is fun. And he made that scientist look like an absolute fool. So yeah, that counts as a good day so he amends his response to a nod.

“ _Talk to anyone?_ ”

Keith gives him an unamused deadpan face and flops back onto the float.

“ _You know what I meant,_ ” Shiro chuckles and settles his face on his arms as his tail swirls behind him. “ _The human...he wants to talk to you more._ ”

Keith rolls his eyes and gestures at his throat again. If a gesture could be sarcastic this passes the test.

“ _You don’t need words to have a conversation, Keith,_ ” Shiro sighs with a smile. “ _Give them a chance._ ”

All he can do to ignore Shiro without giving up his spot or swimming away is roll over. So he does, giving his back to his friend. Keith dips his fingers into the water and swirls it around with a huff. Shiro dives under the float to the other side so they can talk face to face again. When Keith’s eyes dart up he finds older Koi looks concerned.

“ _You scared some of the others today,_ ” he reveals. “ _They thought you were going to hurt them._ ”

Keith huffs and shrugs. Like he cares what the others think. He rolls over the other way again to avoid any further conversation. Too bad it doesn’t work. Shiro just sighs and continues speaking without diving this time.

“ _You keep scaring them like that and no one will want to get to know you, Keith,_ ” he sighs, worry in his tone. “ _You’re a good kid. And I won’t be around forever. Understand?_ ”

That makes Keith swallow nervously. He hates when Shiro talks like that. Like he could die at any minute. Or like he’s going to abandon Keith. Either idea is horrifying to behold.

 _“Do you hear me, Keith?_ ” Shiro asks, his tail curling to brush against Keith’s in reassuring fashion.

Keith sits up and gestures. Yeah, he hears him. Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. Shiro gives him a soft smile.

“ _Good_ ,” Shiro nods and he turns to face where Keith’s facing.

Together they watch as the sun dips down. Orange glow sinking into the ocean until only a sliver remains. Then it disappears too, leaving the sky a soft orange mixing with blue, slowly getting darker as time passes. Then all the light is gone.

Keith hops off the platform, submerging only for a second to refresh his dry skin before popping up again.

“ _You staying up?_ ”

Of course he is. Tonight’s a full moon. Shiro knows Keith’s never missed one in the past nineteen years. But that means he’ll want to kill some time before it’s at peak height. He feels the docks calling his name and a little fun over there will make the time pass faster.

“ _Heading to the docks?_ ” Shiro asks and Keith nods. “ _Be careful then. Don’t harass the humans too much, alright?”_

Keith gives him a ‘do you even know who you’re talking to?’ look which earns him a snort. He promises Shiro with a few hand gestures that he’ll be back after midnight. Then with a flash of his red fin he dives and makes his way to the docks.

*****

Lance taps his pencil in his notebook with barely contained frustration. He tried to find Keith after he changed clothes but the red merman made himself scarce for the rest of the day after their kerfuffle on the boat. He wanted to sketch him from the treeline again, since Holt says they have to wait two more days before approaching the actual beach. For the merfolk’s comfort.

Shiro promised Lance that he’d talk to Keith again, try to encourage him to be a smidge more cooperative but not to hold out too much hope. Keith’s never been big on making friends within his own species, even less so with those outside it.

It’s frustrating but that’s not the worst of it. Lance can’t even wallow in his misery in peace.

Pidge is sitting on Hunk’s bed across from Lance’s and she’s pulsing out her heavy metal over her laptop as she types away. Not even the consideration to put it through some earphones. She just blasts it out of those poor abused laptop speakers. Hunk’s oblivious to it as he has some noise cancelling headphones on.

“Ugh, will you turn off your...music, Pidge?” Lance requests. “Getting a headache. I can only handle so much Opath.”

Pidge stops typing, mouth agape, borderline horrified at the words that just came out of his mouth. She barely turns the sound down but doesn’t turn it off to give him a judging stare. And a lecture.

“Four things. First of all, you mean Opeth not Opath,” she starts off. “Second of all, when’s the last time you listened to an Opeth song? The 90s? They don’t sound anything like this now.”

“Oh my god, Pidge,” Lance groans, burying his face into his sketchbook in dramatic agony. “It’s all death metal, isn’t it?”

“Christ on a cracker, Lance, now it’s seven things,” she explains. “Three, it’s Meshuggah. And four, no, they are not all death metal--Opeth is heavy metal while Meshuggah is progressive metal. Very different. I mean, would you dare lump Dolphinians into the same category as Orcans? I don’t think so! Also--”

Now he’s wishing he hadn’t said anything at all. She’ll be on this tangent for hours if he lets her.

“Can we skip to the seventh thing?” he asks with an unamused frown.

“Oh, sure,” she says. “Seventh thing--No, I won’t turn it off.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Lance grumbles bumping his head on the book several times.

“Helps me concentrate,” she shrugs. “My house, my rules. You don’t like it, go for a walk. Or buy headphones like Hunk,” she adds. Then she turns the volume back up and starts the seven minute song all. over. again.

A walk it is then.

Lance scoops up his belongings and dumps them all into the bag before shouldering it. He tells Mrs. Holt that he’s going to take a short walk, to the docks and back to clear his head before bed. She sends him with a popsicle to eat along the way that he graciously accepts.

The walk is warm as it always is in Hawaii, but there’s a nice salty breeze rustling the palm trees and his hair. While he goes, popsicle in mouth, he thumbs through his phone. His Instagram full of pictures of the beach. His messenger with texts from his mom checking in. They talk every day. He swipes through and taps on Pandora before slipping it into his pocket to listen to on his walk.

It’s late. Nice and dark but there are plenty of people still going to and fro. The closer he gets to the docks the less there are. Some people are throwing little drinking parties on their yachts but Lance just passes them by until he gets near the end of docks. Passes lots of couples sitting on the edges near their party boats.

There’s a young couple at the very end. They’re leaning on each other and whispering so he stops a bit back to give them a little privacy. Lance finds a spot near an empty little sailboat and takes a seat while sticking his long legs over the edge to dip into the ocean. He pulls out his notes and a highlighter so he can at least gets some organizing done while he’s out here.

Barely a sentence marked when he hears a shriek from the girl as she pulls her feet from the water.

“S-Something touched my foot!” she squeals and stands.

“Probably seaweed,” the guy tells her, trying to get her to sit back down with him.

“No, it felt like--like a hand!” she shakes her head. “Let’s go home, it’s too freaky,” she begs.

Lance puts down his stuff, grabs the edge of the dock and peers under the walk just in time to see something dive underwater. Could be a mermaid playing pranks. Or maybe it really was just some seaweed. The Ocean can play all sorts of tricks on people even when they’re sure of what they saw.

Regardless, Lance pulls his own feet up out of the water. Just in case someone thinks it’s funny to pull him in, notebook and all. Better to be safe than sorry. With that, he returns to his notes with a reference book in his lap.

In the end, the boy convinces her to sit back down, at least for a little while longer. Down the docks another person shouts, swearing that something tried to grab him. His friends laugh, telling him maybe he’s had too many. It happens to another girl five minutes later. She shrieks in surprise and then laughs nervously as someone tells her of sea monsters that like to pull humans down to the depths.

It happens maybe two more times, confirming for Lance that it’s more than just a trick of the mind, but then it stops. A whole hour passes before anyone else jumps up from the water. The mer must have gotten bored. When another fifteen minutes passes without anyone complaining about something messing with their feet, Lance chances taking a break and sticking his feet back in.

Before long everyone is gone. The parties are over, which leaves only Lance left on the docks enjoying the rhythmic waters lapping against his ankles in waves. He kicks back to lay his back against the boards and look up at the night sky.

“Full moon,” he hums and then checks his watch. Crap. It’s after midnight. Time to turn in.

Lance sits up and pulls his feet out of the water. He’s packing the last of his notes away when he hears it.

Sounds like a low hum at first but then that doesn’t feel quite right. More like singing actually but when he looks around the docks are empty. He strains his ears trying to figure out who it is and where it’s coming from.

A woman? A man? He can’t tell but he feels compelled to get closer to find out. He leaves his bag to step carefully down the walk, listening as it gets louder.

It sounds beautiful but...something about it is sad. Melancholic and bittersweet. He reaches a point in the dock that’s close to the sound and finds it’s coming from below. A mer?

Carefully, Lance leans down and peeks under the docks. A few pillars over confirms his suspicions. A dark silhouette of a mer holding on to one of the posts. It’s tail waves and swirls in the dark water but never breaches the surface. They’re looking up at the moon as they sing in a low tone. It’s a wonder Lance heard it at all.

There are no words, just vocalizations. It sounds like...a dirge. A requiem for a lost something. Or someone. He gets a feeling it’s the latter. No real evidence, just a tight pain in his chest as he listens to the way the mer’s voice quivers as he sings. No evidence on that last assumption either; Lance just guesses it’s male from the low tone.

Lance doesn’t interrupt, merely sits back up and listens. He does pull out his phone, however, to record the song. He puts it down on the dock and leans back on his arms to look up at the moon too.

As much as he should go home and get some sleep...he feels a certain loneliness coming from the mer under the docks. So he decides to stay until the song is finished. When it’s finally done, Lance hears the singer let out a deep resigned sigh and he furrows his brow in sympathy.

So sad. So human. This is why he could never believe all the garbage those anti-science types spout. Saying crap like ‘merfolk are just wild animals’. That they lack emotion and empathy. Yes, they’re beautiful but they still killed thousands of humans. Makes them monsters. That’s what they like to say.

Those bigots are all for putting them on the endangered species list. They’re even fine with setting up privately funded refuges for them. But comparing them to humans? Treating them like they’re equals? That’s just simply not allowed. Not unless someone can prove, unequivocally, that there is a connection between the two species. Until then, they don’t believe the mer deserve rights. Not a single one.

What a crock of shit, Lance thinks with a frown. Even if they aren’t human...don’t they deserve the same freedoms and protections of those on land? They’re people. How can anyone not hear that sad song, hear that tired sigh, and think they are anything but as multifaceted as human beings?

They get sad, they smile, they fall in love, they have families, and they get hurt. Mer are capable of all humans are and more.

Lance leans over the edge again and finds that the mer hasn’t moved. He’s still leaning on the post and staring up at the moon. He wishes he could say something to put him at ease but he’d probably just end up spooking the guy. And chances are he wouldn’t understand Lance even if he said anything.

But maybe he can get a closer look? Matt’s studying the cultural aspect of singing merfolk. Even wrote a paper on it comparing them to the sirens of Greek myth. If he can find some distinguishing marks, he can point the mer out to Matt in the bay tomorrow for his studies.

He leans, holding onto the wet edge of the docks but it doesn’t give him the view he’d like. So he stands to step a little closer. All of a sudden he loses his footing on the first step and slips. Right off the side of the docks. His surprised shout is cut short when his head collides with the hull of a yacht and everything goes dark.

*****

Keith had grown bored with tickling and grabbing feet after just an hour of doing so. Keeps thinking about what Shiro said about ending up alone and it’s getting to him.

The ocean is dangerous, always has been. Squalls, disease, other apex predators. Humans…

His father was killed by poachers when he was a child. Koi scales were very valuable on the black market, sought after for their rarity and beauty. Still are valuable he supposes. Especially a rare Aka Bekko like his father. Red’s a hard color to come by.

He kept Keith from getting caught in that net himself and when they tried to help--he shrieked at them to swim. Even as they skewered him with hooks he only begged them to go. To swim away to safety. Keith was too small to fight his mother’s strength when she pulled him away.

And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough his mother--Keith  shakes his head of the memory.

He was alone for months until he joined the other Koi in Japan. While they took him in they never truly accepted him. Koi are supposed to be graceful and elegant. Mild tempered and calm. And Keith, well, he’s none of those things. To them, the only thing Koi about him are his scales. The rest is very clearly Galra.

Keith leans on the dock post with a sigh and looks up at the moon. The three of them loved looking at the moon together. His mother would hold him and his father would sing.

His mother always said his father’s singing is what drew her to him. She said he was magical. He could pull anyone with a song if he knew the right words to say.

His father always spun stories of how there was siren blood in him somewhere deep down their line. That one day, Keith would probably be a good at it too if he tried. Keith’s not sure he ever believed him on either count. On having it in his blood or becoming good at it.

He only ever tried singing after his father died. It never drew in any sailors or other folk so he figured it didn’t work. But it did make his mother smile so he never stopped doing it when they looked up at the moon together.

He wishes...they could hear him now.

The docks are so quiet. Everyone’s gone. He clings to the post and licks his lips. Never has he had trouble vocalizing so he opens his mouth to sing a song for her. For them both.

Low swaying tones like the waves of the bay. He tries to keep from sinking into despair but his voice trembles. He can only sing how he feels and right now...he feels so frustrated, tired, and alone. When he finishes he lets out a deep sigh.

Maybe it’s time to head back.

A sharp yelp cut short with a thud catches his attention. Then a splash. Keith turns and sees the water bubbling as something sinks.

Or someone.

A human?

Shiro says sometimes drunk ones slip off the docks. Most of the time they don’t drown but they flounder about in the water until they can grab onto a rope or a boat. But this one doesn't move...and it doesn’t look like he’s coming back up.

Keith would call for some other human to come help but he physically can’t. So he dives and listens for the bubbles slipping out of the sinking human. Then he just barely spots the faint outline of a body as it falls. He reaches out and grabs under their arms, propelling upward with a push of his fluke. They breach the surface in no time.

This human doesn’t know how lucky he is. He better be damn grateful.

He paddles them to the dock post and grabs the edge. With another push of his fluke and tug of his arm he pulls himself up, dragging the body up onto the dock along with him. With a huff he drops the human into a wet pile. It’s only now that he recognizes the person.

It’s the scientist. Lanz? Or something like that...he really wasn’t paying attention to Shiro when he said names.

Keith gives his cheek a few firm pats but no reaction. He’s not breathing and his head has a small gash. It's starting to drip blood onto the woodwork. In the moonlight like this, the blood looks inky black. Keith grunts out a noise and gives the guy a shake by the shoulders. Nothing.

Probably took in too much water but he can’t just leave him here. What if no one comes? It’s reprehensible to ignore someone in trouble. Shiro would shame him for the rest of his natural life--and a couple centuries of nagging is a long time.

That’s when Keith suddenly recalls something he can do.

He makes sure the gill flaps on his neck press closed air-tight. Then puffs his cheeks before bending down over him and blowing a great puff of air into Lance’s mouth. That’s how parent merfolk clear water from younglings lungs who forget to switch to neck gills when they go under.

Same principle right?

The first attempt does nothing, Keith lowers an ear to his chest but can’t hear a change. He tries again, inhales deep and this time he pinches Lance’s nose before he breathes air into him again. Suddenly the body under him shudders as water bubbles out of his mouth with a sputtering cough.

Lance chokes and spits out ocean, rolling to retch against the docks over and over. On his hands and knees in gasping ragged breaths.

“F-Fuck,” he coughs out. Water dripping from his mouth and clothes. “Wh-What...hap...pened…?”

Right. Lance suddenly remembers. He went to get a closer look and...there’s a tiny smear of blood on the boat next him. Knock out.

“Christ,” he exclaims, finally breathing easy. If someone hadn’t found him...he’d be sleeping with the fishes.

When he looks around for his savior, Lance finds himself alone. No one’s there. Just a great big wet spot on the docks. Lance touches his throbbing head with a wince and pulls his hand away finding it slick with warm blood.

“But who…?” he wonders aloud, still searching his surroundings.

A sparkle of red resting on the dock catches Lance’s eye. He picks it up and turns it over curiously before recognizing it. A crimson Koi scale. Or actually...he squints. This isn’t Koi at all. Something’s off about it. A mutation or--

“Keith,” he realizes and looks around again.

No sign of any mer anywhere, but there are several more scales on the dock. They look similar to the first one he picked up. Must have scraped them off when he pulled them up. Or when he hurriedly slid back into the ocean.

Does that mean Keith was the one singing down there? But he’s mute isn’t he? And did he--was he the one that saved Lance? But why?

Too many questions and not enough data for the answers. For now, Lance crawls over to his bag with a pained groan and pulls out a small specimen jar. He’d packed them this morning hoping Keith would be cooperative enough to give him samples. How lucky.

The scales drop into the jar with a klink and he screws the lid back on. Gives the little jar a jingle with a sigh. Better than nothing, so he stows it away in his things and sweeps his hair back a tired sigh.

“Agh,” Lance winces again when he touches the gash.

Best to get back to the Holt’s, after he hits up the first aid station at the start of the docks, of course. Some of those late night partiers can get pretty rowdy. Chances are his little head wound will be the tamest thing they’ve seen tonight.

He stands and shoulders the bag with another griping moan before he starts walking. Soaking wet for the second time today, but alive.

And he’s pretty sure he has Keith to thank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, and Edhelwen. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*

**_“The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps.  
_** **_It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles.  
_ ** ******_No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't.”_**

**_\--Christopher Paolini_ **

 

The next day is a headache and a half. Literally.

Turns out Lance’s trip to the first aid station revealed the presence of a mild concussion. After he told them he slipped and hit his head on the dock, they patched him up and sent him home. He’s been ordered by the nurse and a very stern Mrs. Holt to stay in for the day.

Lance assures her that he’s fine but she won’t have it. A mother knows best, she says. Besides, he shouldn’t be on a boat if there’s a chance he’ll get dizzy and fall off. No swimming either, she says. Drowning doesn’t sound like a good time and Lance agrees wholeheartedly.

Once is enough.

So he spends the whole day in his bed or at his desk reading merfolk biology books. Flipping through the parts on Koi and taking notes for when he gets to the sanctuary again. Wants to be on the lookout for more of those defining traits. Unfortunately, none of Pidge’s shelves have much on Galra. That stuff, what little there is, is on her laptop which she took with her.

The scales he found on the dock have been swabbed of their mucus. Some of the fluid was put on a slide while the other bit of fluid is run through the small mass spectrometer in the Holt basement. One of the scales was sacrificed into a fine powder to run through the mass spec too. With any luck, it’ll give him some insight into Keith’s mixed biology.

And he’s sure it’s Keith’s at this point. After studying the scale under a microscope he knows it isn’t a typical Koi scale. Even compared it to an old Koi sample on hand. It’s thicker and harder. The size is a little wider than a typical koi too.

“Must be that Galra part of him,” he muses aloud. They don’t have any Galra samples for comparison, but it’s a safe assumption.

Lance takes some time to draw out the scale, using pencils to bring in the color. Brilliant red in the center and darker towards the edges...but not shimmery, he notes. Most Koi have a sparkle to them, but not Keith. It’s dulled somewhat and he attributes that to the Galra ancestry too.

Makes sense. What Lance does remember about the Galra is that they are ambush predators. Dusky dull scales. Hiding in dark crevasses and waiting for the perfect opportunity. They work together for large prey, waiting for something to run the gauntlet and then BAM! The prey’s in pieces before it realizes what hit it.

“Is that why you’re not with them?” he wonders with a sad sigh.

Flashy colors attract attention. And you don’t need prey seeing you before you see them. It’d ruin the ambush. Keith’s probably a liability on a team hunt. Though, when Lance thinks about it, that’s not even the worst thing about Keith’s situation.

Normal koi fish get picked off out of ponds by heron because of how bright they are. Being a vibrant red fish is like ringing the dinner bell for things like sharks and such. That’s why Koi merfolk stick together. Strength in numbers.

But Keith...he’s practically alone. No parents from what he’s seen. And the others give him his space. Never getting close and even going so far as to leave if Keith’s in the vicinity. Makes Lance wonder how many times the red Galra’s been on the receiving end of some nasty shark fights. He did have some scars so--

“Probably too often,” Lance mumbles.

Always on his own. No wonder he was so sad last night.

That reminds Lance. All day here working on his observations and coloring in his sketches, he’d forgotten about the recording. He tugs his phone from the shoulder bag on the floor and swipes open the music. Taps the file and turns up the volume to listen.

Somber dulcet tones. Still just as melancholy as the night before. Each time he hits replay Lance feels a tightness in his chest. It feels so painful. Like a hole being carved where his heart should be. It’s like...like he can feel the loneliness through listening. It...makes him miss his mom.

Someone passes by the room and doubles back just as quickly. Matt. He’s peering into the room for the source of the sound and furrows his brow in confusion.

“What is that?” Matt inquires.

“Oh.” Lance starts and sits up. His eyes are a little wet at the corners and he wipes it away. “It’s uh, I recorded it last night.”

“What species is that?” Matt asks as he steps inside. Lance hands him the phone and he restarts it, listening close. “It’s...odd.”

“Why’s that?”

“The tones--It almost sounds like a Koi but it’s…” Matt struggles for a word for a second. “It’s polyphonic.”

“I’m sorry? Poly...fontic?”

“Polyphonic. Two different tones simultaneously,” Matt explains as he listens to it. “It can only be done with dual vocal chords and well developed vestibular folds. Koi don’t have vestibular folds in their throat.”

Matt listens for a little longer, rewinding a little and focusing on the sound with a frown. He repeats the same section several times before pausing it with a sudden thought.

“Is this the red one? The half Galra?” Matt asks and Lance blinks with surprise, but nods. “Amazing. Could I get a copy of this? I need to add it to my library of singing mer recordings.”

Lance agrees to send him a copy, of course. Matt explains further that no library on the planet has a recording of Galra merfolk singing. Not a single one. Keith may be a hybrid but that still makes this a unique discovery. The only other recording of polyphonic singing is from a few whale species mer, namely the humpback ones.

“But the humpbacks never sing _above_ water,” Matt shrugs and hands the phone back to Lance. “This though...this is very unique.”

“Can I ask weird question?” Lance starts and taps the recording to play again. “Do you feel anything when you hear it?”

Matt listens for a moment and his eyes soften a little.

“He sounds...sad,” Matt admits.

“That’s it though? Just sad?”

“Yeah. Why? Do you hear something different?” Matt asks, his eyes lighting up. Probably something to do with his thesis on sirens.

It’s not that Lance hears something different. It’s that he _feels_ something different. An ache. A persistent pain.

But maybe he’s just overreacting. He’s always been overly sensitive to the feelings of others. If Pidge is grouchy, he gets grouchy. If Hunk cries, he cries, even if he doesn’t know what upset him. If someone is in a good mood, he can’t help but catch the good mood himself.

“No, sad was...that’s what I thought too.” Lance sighs and starts packing up his bag.

“What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d go down to the sanctuary,” Lance admits. “Do a few drawings.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking it easy today?” Matt asks as he points at Lance’s bandage.

“I’ll stick to the treeline,” he promises. “No docks or boats for me.”

Normally he’d ride his bike down there, but just to be safe he walks. Takes in the streets and waves at the locals with a smile on his face. Once he gets to the gate, he swipes his badge through the card reader and gets ushered in by the guards. He takes the trail down, carefully so he doesn’t slip down the rocks and make his injury worse.

It’s late afternoon now. Many of the merfolk are out setting or checking their nets for their nightly meal. Leaves the beach fairly clear with the exception of new parents and older folk. Lance follows the treeline down to the spot that’s closest to Keith’s favorite float. It’s empty right now, but he’ll probably be back soon.

Lance plops down right where the trees meet the sand and gets out his notebook. Sharpens his pencils then sketches in the float and background while waiting for the real subject to arrive.

Ten minutes later there’s a splash and Keith’s pulling himself up the float with a fish in his fist. An uku. Grey snapper. And it’s a big one.

He splits it in half longwise using one of his sharp claws with a swipe. Cuts through bones and all with no effort. He then slides the first piece into his mouth, shoving it down with his palm in one quick movement. Swallow. Then he eats next piece just as quickly.

That always blows Lance’s mind. If the piece is small enough then merfolk everywhere swallow the fish whole. Very rarely do they ever chew. If the catch is a little bigger, they cut it in half like Keith just did, swallowing the separate pieces whole. Bigger kills, like tuna, get shredded into bits and shared among the community, but Lance doubts Keith’s going to catch anything bigger than a snapper on his own.

The red Galra slips off the float again and comes back ten minutes later with another fish. Snapper again. This one is small though, so he does nothing but guzzle it down and lick his fingers. He looks like he’s contemplating diving in again for another fish so Lance takes a moment to sketch his profile and take notes.

It takes Keith a while to catch things, he observes. Usually, the merfolk work together so they don’t have to make multiple trips or exhaust themselves. Koi are fishermen, not hunters, so they set nets. But the Dolphinians actively hunt their food with group tactics like the Galra.

Must be tiring for Keith, doing all his hunting alone.

“By choice?” Lance wonders as he writes. “Or because no one wants to work with him?”

That wouldn’t surprise Lance. Keith can be rather intimidating.

One of the little mergirls shrieks and points at Lance at the treeline. The adults all look in his direction but relax when they recognize him. He gives them a friendly wave and once they reassure the little one all is safe they return to their activities. Thank goodness.

Maybe that means he can come down to the water without scaring them?

Keith takes notice of him now with a stern frown. Lance waves at the red merman too, but gets no reaction. Oh well, can’t expect everyone to like him right off the bat. He stays where he is under the shade of the trees and returns to drawing with a disappointed sigh.

A whistle catches his attention and Lance’s face snaps up to look for the source. A familiar black and white Koi is waving at him from the center of the bay. Lance smiles and stands to wave enthusiastically back. Shiro swims much closer and into the shallows, then gestures for Lance to come closer.

The beach is mostly empty here. Keith’s presence plus Lance’s made most of the nearby merfolk scatter to the rest of the bay. Seems safe enough, and Shiro’s trustworthy. He’d never beckon Lance to the water if he thought it would be dangerous. So Lance pulls off his shoes, socks, and rolls his pants to his knees before striding into the water to meet Shiro.

“Evening,” Shiro nods and Lance nods back. “Didn’t see you today with the others...oh.” Shiro blinks and taps his forehead before pointing at Lance’s.

“Oh yeah,” Lance chuckles and brushes the bandage. “Tripped and hit my head. Doctors said to take a break.”

“But you couldn’t stay away.” Shiro chuckles and Lance nods. “Humans. Stubborn. What’s that there? More drawings?” he asks, gesturing to Lance’s hand.

“My anatomical notes on Keith actually,” Lance says with pride. “Wanna see them?”

Lance flips through pages and turns to show them to Shiro. He looks impressed and nods with approval. Merfolk don’t draw much and when they do it’s often in the sand. Or little designs on shells. Nowhere near as detailed as humans with their pencils and pens.

“They’d look better if I could get closer,” Lance admits with a huff.

“I warned you he would be difficult,” Shiro reminds him.

“Can I ask…” Lance starts and looks over and sees Keith lounging on his float. “Where is his family?”

“Gone,” Shiro says solemnly. “His father was poached. His mother...mortally wounded by a shark. He has no family left.”

“What about the other Galra?”

Shiro shakes his head with a sigh. “There are so few and they are…” Shiro pauses and huffs. “Shy isn’t the right word. Uh…hmm...”

“Reclusive?” Lance asks and Shiro nods.

“Yes. And they would not accept his mixed blood,” Shiro tells him. “Smaller and weaker than most Galra. And his colors...make him no good for group hunts in the deep.”

“But the Koi? They let him stay?” Lance asks for clarification and Shiro nods.

“Koi do not turn away family no matter the strength of their blood,” Shiro reveals.

It’s not a matter of pride or anything like that. It’s a matter of keeping numbers high. The bigger the pod the more likely it is to survive in the coming years. Even if he’s on the outskirts most of the time, Keith’s a part of their pod. It’s practical to keep a strong mer with them.

“Keith is welcome to live in Japan’s waters with them but…” Shiro sighs with disappointment when he looks at the other Koi.

“But...he’s not a true Koi,” Lance guesses. “Not to them.”

“Yes,” Shiro nods. “He is...one of a kind. Keith won’t talk with anyone but me but...maybe not for much longer.”

Shiro nudges him to look. Lance turns and finds that Keith’s float is empty. Suspicious considering he appeared to be napping a second ago. Then he looks down and finds that Keith’s in the shallows, slowly trying to sneak up on them. When their gazes meet they both go stock still.

“Why is he…?” Lance barely whispers.

“Probably to eavesdrop,” Shiro answers.

Keith can’t understand English but he _can_ read facial expressions. And tone. He knows his name when he hears it too. Keith’s not a fan of being talked about and was about to express that sentiment with a good splash before Shiro gave him away.

Spoilsport.

But that won’t stop him. Keith narrows his eyes and continues to stalk closer. At that Lance’s heart races with slight panic. He doesn’t want to run and spook the other mer with his sudden movements so he steels himself to stand still. Keith’s only a couple yards away now and getting closer.

Shit! If he sprays Lance again it’ll ruin his notebook! Is it sad, funny, or pathetic that his first worry is for his work and not his life?

Shiro says something in a cautionary tone, not unlike that of a warning. It’s in Aquan but Lance can feel the emotion behind it. Sounds like ‘behave’. Keith’s eyes finally flit to Shiro’s and furrow into a glare. He sits up in the shallows and gestures something pointed and terse to Shiro before getting on his hands again to scoot marginally closer.

“He says he just wants to see what you’ve written,” Shiro translates.

“He does? Uh,” Lance swallows and grips tight on the notebook. “He won’t...spray me again...will he?”

“No,” Shiro says and then addresses Keith in their own tongue. “ _He won’t be splashing water all over the scientist’s hard work, will he?_ ”

Keith huffs with annoyance but shakes his head to show his understanding. Lance takes Shiro’s reassuring smile as a good sign and bends down a little as Keith gets closer. He opens the book and turns it towards the red merman, extending it far out from his body so Keith can see without forcing himself to get too close.

The merman leans in, giving Lance a distrustful look before eyeing the pages covered in sketches and writing. His eyes blink a little wider with curiosity as he absorbs the images.

It’s all so pretty. The human drew all this? From so far away? How is that even possible?

Keith’s eyes roam over the pages with interest and catch on the detailed drawings of his arms. He even drew the forearm spines. Keith looks at his arms and back to the picture to find it’s fairly accurate. Every minute or so, Lance turns a page and re-extends the book.

The pictures are more fascinating than the words. That being said, Keith raises a clawed hand and flicks water off of it before tapping it to the page. He signs something out but Lance doesn’t catch any of it.

“What’s he--”

“He wants to know what the words mean,” Shiro tells him.

“Oh, they’re just notes. Hypotheses and stuff. It’s really boring,” Lance assures him.

Shiro tells Keith this but he makes an annoyed noise in his throat before signing again.

“He doesn’t care. He wants to know...heh…what you ‘think’ you know about him,” Shiro chuckles. “I’ll translate to the best of my skill.”

“Uh, okay then. ‘The subject is a hybrid species consisting of an Akko Bekko Koi and the nearly extinct Galra. Despite vibrant red coloration and basic frame of a Koi, the other physical characteristics and behavior are far closer to Galra traits’,” Lance reads from the page and Shiro translates it into Aquan.

Keith doesn’t seem to have a problem with anything he’s said so far. He taps the book again. More. Read more, seems to be the signs he’s giving Lance.

“More? Sure, uh, ‘Despite lore that dictates the Galra are prone to violence, this subject leans more towards mischievous endeavors instead. This suggests either (a) the presence of Koi ancestry curbs violent behavior or that (b) old accounts on Galra behavior may be biased and in turn inaccurate. Much more research is needed’.”

Keith seems to smirk at that one. Probably glad that Lance admits to not knowing everything. He gestures for Lance to keep going but for that he has to flip the page. The next page is one of his first full-body sketches that he put together from studying the others. A composite on what he believes all of Keith’s body looks like.

“Let’s see…‘Physical observations: Thick protective scaling and spines indicative of Galra but vibrant coloration and sleek silhouette of an Aka Bekko Koi’,” Lance starts. “‘The subject has the strength and speed of one species and the aesthetics of the other. An entirely unique discovery, the subject is a perfect meld of both species’.”

At the end of that translation Keith blinks with confusion and then immediately recoils several feet away from Lance, a suspicious look as he narrows his eyes at the scientist. Distrustful again. Or maybe skeptical? Lance merely furrows a brow in confusion himself.

Was it something he said?

Keith signals something to Shiro, the focus on his mouth and the sounds that come out. Lance can’t tell if he’s angry or confused. Or maybe some of both? The gestures are rigid and forceful as he grits his sharp teeth into a scowl. Shiro watches the movements, some of which have to be repeated until the Koi understands.

“Oh! Haha,” Shiro laughs a little. “He thinks you misspoke. Or that I mistranslated.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you used the word ‘perfect’ and I translated literally. With the Aquan translation, there are very few things that are referred to with such a term. The uh...what’s the word...Matt uses it a lot...ah. The _connotations_ are romantic, not clinical.”

“Huh. Oh. Oh!” Lance blinks, his cheeks tinting pink in embarrassment. “Jeez. Uh...let’s see. Other words for perfect...Does ‘flawless’ translate better? Or maybe ‘ideal’ or ‘optimal’?”

“Flawless is worse,” Shiro snorts but then nods. “Optimal is a little more impersonal.”

“Then use that!” Lance insists.

Shiro re-translates and Keith listens intently. When finished Keith looks a little less suspicious of Lance. He appears to be considering something with a frown on his face. When done thinking, he gives Shiro another sign before taking off into the water. He doesn’t even splash them with his fin.

“He wants you to wait,” Shiro says and looks just as perplexed as Lance is.

Keith returns to their spot, swimming calmly at first before crawling the rest of the way. He stops in front of Lance and thrusts out his hand so fast that Lance flinches. But in his hand is a familiar object.

“My pen,” Lance mumbles.

Is this...some kind of peace offering?

Keith shakes the pen in his impatience. The message is clear. Take it, before he changes his mind. Lance takes it in hand and eyes it. No worse for wear. It’ll need a good cleaning and new ink though since it’s waterlogged.

“Th-Thanks,” Lance half smiles and looks to Shiro. “How do I say thanks in Aquan?”

Shiro tells him so Lance turns to Keith and does his best to imitate it. Keith just shrugs indifferently but gives a nod before dipping into the water to go back to his float. No hissing. No splashing. Lance looks on as Keith pulls himself up to begin cracking open a handful of oyster shells and eating the contents.

“Why can’t he talk?” Lance quietly asks Shiro, his lidded eyes never leaving the float.

“I don’t know,” Shiro admits. “Keith was never a talkative mer. But...the day his mother died, he stopped altogether.”

He remembers the song Keith sang down by the docks. How haunting and sad it was, as if still in mourning. Probably still is. Some mermaids live for centuries. Years mean nothing when it comes to death or loss. For a mer, an emotional wound suffered years ago is as fresh as if it was received yesterday.

A long life means extra time to suffer and mourn losses.

“Thanks for the help, Shiro,” Lance nods. “I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, Lance,” Shiro beams to show his teeth and shakes his hand. “Glad to help.”

“Think I could talk to you again tomorrow?” Lance asks. “I could use a couple more phrases for talking to Keith.”

“Of course,” Shiro nods.

“I’ll pay you back with something tasty,” Lance promises. “Mangoes sound good?”

“I won’t say no to that,” Shiro laughs.

Lance wonders...if he brought fruit and offered some to Keith, would he take it? He shakes his head with a snort.

No way. Keith’s used to fending for himself without the help of others. Likely takes great pride in it. He’d probably look on Lance’s offering as some kind of insult, especially since he’s fully capable of feeding himself.

Lance watches as Keith finishes off the last of his oysters and tosses the remains one by one into the ocean. Each shell gets a little further than the last. When he runs out of things to throw he slips off his little floating dock and disappears into the depths. Lance waits a good half hour but Keith doesn’t return before he loses his light.

No point in sticking around if he can’t see to draw. And it doesn’t look like Keith’s coming back. So he bids Shiro good night and returns to the Holt abode.

*****

The next couple of days Lance spends most of his time watching and drawing pictures from a distance. The red merman still won’t get any closer than his little dock and any attempt for Lance to get closer has resulted in him diving off and making himself scarce for hours at a time. So he sticks to the treeline and uses his binoculars to make his observations.

The other merfolk have grown accustomed to him sitting in the sand under the trees. Some even watch him curiously, peering over the surface and clicking to each other as they gossip. They only come closer when Shiro approaches him. The black and white Koi climbs his way up the wet beach and beckons him to join him for lunch.

Lance has been bringing him a few tasty morsels from the market. A basketful of papayas and mangos which cost next to nothing where his weekly stipend is concerned. They’re even cheaper if they’re a little soft, which Lance has no problem with eating to save a little cash. Since most merfolk are omnivores, he shares them with Shiro as they talk back and forth.

Shiro’s English is actually pretty good, but he has been practicing for ten years with the oldest Holt. Sometimes he pauses mid-sentence because he’s searching for a word, but otherwise he’s easy enough to understand. He tries to teach some of the other merfolk a few phrases here and there but most don’t care for it. The Koi in particular seem disinterested in conversing with humans.

Lance gets it. Mermaids live a long time and they have a long memory. They won’t soon forget who caused their small numbers in the first place. And it may take generations more for them to be at ease around humans.

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” Lance sighs as he looks out onto the bay. “We’re the reason your numbers are as few as they are.”

“That was hundreds of years ago, Lance,” Shiro says, tone comforting. “And I can’t think of many here who harbor any strong grudges. If they did, they wouldn't stay here.”

“Yeah?” Lance tries to smile. “You don’t resent us at all?”

“I could never hate the landwellers,” Shiro assures him. “Stories from our past say that our peoples, the humans and mer, were once one and the same. That we were once a single race. I like to think that’s true and think of us as brothers that share this world.”

“Me too,” Lance smiles, for real this time. “Wish I could prove it though. I’d be set for life. Nothing but sleeping in a hammock and drinking mojitos for the rest of my days.”

“Sounds nice,” Shiro chuckles.

He’d like to talk longer but it’s time he got back to work. He leaves the basket of fruit with Shiro. Tells him to feel free to share with the others, but not before he pockets a few to take with him. He moves back down the beach towards Keith’s float and takes a seat on the hot sand while Shiro swims across the bay to a grouping of Koi.

Keith’s still on his float, sunbathing. When he does this, Lance can’t see his tail as he often lays on his stomach with his scales in the water, his head resting on his arms. One might mistake him for a normal guy catching a few rays if not for the spines on his arms and huge dorsal fin reaching for the sky.

Lance looks at the mango in his hand and then smirks. Wonders if maybe it’s time Keith got a taste of his own medicine. With perfect precision, Lance aims and lobs the fruit towards the float. It lands right next to it with a nice sized splash, getting water all over Keith and waking him from his nap in the sun with a start.

He looks around for what caused the splash and spots the floating fruit. Keith snatches it out of the water and searches for the origin with a glare. When his eyes fall on Lance he finds the human pretending nothing is amiss, whistling and drawing in his book. Pausing on occasion to take a bite of his own mango.

Keith’s eyes narrow on him, suspicious of Lance despite his attempts at looking innocent. Time for revenge.

He sinks into the water and disappears from view. Then moves himself a little ways off and readies to throw it back. He just has to decide if he wants to make it a direct hit or aim it to fling sand all over the scientist. His aim isn’t great and he’d get closer but he doesn’t want to ruin the element of surprise.

That’s when he has an even better idea.

Lance looks up and finds the float empty. He lets out a disappointed sigh thinking maybe his prank didn’t have the intended effect. That or he went hunting again. He puts his notebook aside and lays back on the sand to look up into the branches of the trees. Bright blue sky peeking out between the leaves.

Man, this place is paradise. If he were a mer he’d spend every day here.

A whistle catches his attention. Sounds like Shiro. Probably ready to return the basket. Without deliberation, Lance gets to his feet and jogs his way down into the shallows until the water gets to his knees. He looks out into the distance, hand shielding him from the sun reflecting off the water.

“Where’s--”

A firm grasp and pull on Lance’s foot unseats him with a yelp. While submerged he catches a glimpse of red scales retreating from him and he realizes who the culprit is. Keith again. He shouldn’t be surprised the merman retaliated in the form of tricking him into the water.

It’s shallow enough here that he only goes under for a second before sputtering to the surface. Soaked again. His hair, shirt, and shorts. He’s going to have to stop wearing his khakis out here and start wearing his swim trunks every day with how often Keith insists on dousing him.

Keith’s a couple yards deeper into the water, smirking with victory and chuckling to himself. Revenge dealt. He keeps thinking Lance will stand and go trudging his way back up the beach with a pout to dry. Instead Lance just flops backward with a sigh and makes no attempt to move. The waves just lap at him as he digs his feet into the sand.

Odd. Why won’t the human leave?

He’s pulled harder than that on humans before and nothing happened. They literally walk it off. For a second Keith wonders if he hurt him. He shakes the thought but curiously crawls closer to look at him to make sure.

Lance is clearly breathing. Maybe he...hit his head again? Did he knock him out--?

“You’re an ass,” Lance says to the sky and Keith pauses in his movement.

Awake. Still not moving though. What is he saying? Is he talking to Keith? Or just aloud?

“But you’re kinda fun. Shame you’re a merman,” Lance continues. “You seem like you’d be cool to hang out with on land.”

The human doesn’t look like he’s scared or worried about Keith’s approach. Maybe he doesn’t want to startle him with movement. Or maybe he just doesn’t hear Keith sloshing closer. Poor dumb oblivious thing.

“Play video games. Go bike riding. Steal a fruit or two from the market and get chased down the street by a little old man with his broom. Climb a tree. Ride a roller-coaster. Start a bar fight,” Lance lists and lets out a sigh. “One of those never a dull day types.”

It’s not until Keith’s next to him that Lance realizes that Keith never left. He just assumed the merman went back to his float after the prank, to gloat and bask in victory. Figured he was sitting here musing to himself but Keith’s face comes into view, blocking the sun and framing his face and finned ears with light.

He’s...kinda cute up close. When he isn’t hissing and spitting. And glaring. And baring his terrifying teeth.

Keith can’t get over the fact that the human doesn’t look mad. It’s puzzling. He doesn’t look scared either, or if he is the emotion is closer to surprise than fear. And he’s still not moving, just blinking with shallow breaths.

Keith spots something on his forehead and raises a brow. Looks like a section of skin that’s not quite the right color. Isn’t that where he was bleeding before?

Keith reaches out and Lance freezes stock still at the sight of sharp claws. The tips pinch the edge of the bandage and slowly pull. The adhesive gives as it’s removed and reveals a dark scab underneath. Like an off-color scale. Keith eyes it and then points at it, a question in his eyes.

“A scab. It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt,” Lance breathes out, but there’s no recognition in Keith’s face at any of the words he uses. “Right...he said you don’t understand English.”

It might be a mistake but...Lance slowly sits up and Keith shrinks back a little. He doesn’t go too far but his tai is coiled, ready to push off into the water if needed. Lance raises his hand and knocks on his head with a smile.

“Gotta thick skull,” he says. “I’m fine.”

Keith seems to get that gesture at least and nods. Lance then shows him his hands are empty before reaching into his pocket. Keith tenses but then relaxes again when all Lance removes is a bottle. Small with a red scale inside.

“You were there, weren’t you?” Lance asks, pointing at Keith. “At the docks? When I fell?”

Lance puts the bottle away and tries pantomiming as he talks, hoping that maybe it’ll help get his point across. He makes his hand walk across his palm and then mimics them slipping. Then sinking into the water.

“I was drowning,” Lance says, pointing to himself and pretending to choke. Keith’s eyes go wide in alarm for a second but when Lance chuckles he relaxes. “You,” he says and points. “You gave me CPR, didn’t you? Got the water out?”

Lance gestures to his chest and coughs like he’s clearing his throat. Keith suddenly blinks with complete understanding. He’s talking about the other night. He wants to know if Keith was the one who saved him.

Keith looks away but nods. Taps his chest once then brings both hands towards his chest without touching it. He ebbs them out and back in twice before pointing to Lance.

“You breathed for me,” Lance guesses. “ _Thank you_ ,” he tells him in Aquan with a grateful smile.

No one’s ever really...thanked him before. Not with a smile like that.

Keith flushes and looks away with a huff. Points at Lance and does a gesture that starts as flat hand from his mouth, closing it as he pulls it away. Lance guesses it means something along the lines of ‘don’t mention it’ or ‘don’t tell anyone’. He’s not sure which but he nods with a chuckle.

“I gotta get back to work,” Lance announces. Keith doesn’t flinch or try to bolt when he stands, just watches as the water drips off him. “Enjoy your mango,” he adds, pointing to the fruit still in Keith’s hand before turning to go.

Keith watches as he sloshes his way back up the beach while pulling his shirt off and wringing it out. Shakes the water from his head too. He lays the tee out on the hot sand before stepping over to his bag under the palms. So he can dry off, he moves everything to the sun and takes a seat next to his shirt before pulling his notebook back out.

Huh. Lance notices that Keith hasn’t moved from the shallows. The merman usually prefers the solitude of his float. Odd.

Right now he’s leaning back on one arm, his tail swishing through the water as he takes a large bite out of his mango. Skin and all. Lance flips through his notebook to a fresh page and starts sketching. Better to do it quick before Keith moves.

But Keith doesn’t move. Not through the entire fruit. Even when he’s done, he lingers in the shallows to licks his fingers of the sweet juices. When he’s done with that he lowers his hands into the water and leans back, propped up on his arms to look at the sky.

It’s almost as if...he’s posing.

At that thought, Lance smirks and flips the page before standing. He moves down the beach and to the side, to get a better angle. Keith eyes him doing this but doesn’t go anywhere. Just sits and watches the other mer swim around the bay. Lance is interrupted on his third sketch when the radio in his bag goes off.

“He’s letting you get awfully close,” Pidge says through the receiver. “Be careful.”

“I’ve been closer than this,” Lance tells her. “But this is the closest he’s let me draw him.”

“You need to learn how to use a camera,” Hunk contends. “So much faster. And safer.”

“And booooring,” Lance says then shrugs. “My way I get to establish a rapport.”

“Anyway, speaking of building rapport,” Pidge takes the walky back. “We invited the mer to meet with us tomorrow. Outside the sanctuary for a few hours. Only the younger Dolphinians accepted.”

“They wanna go surfing with us,” Hunk adds. “Wanna come?”

“My head’s been feeling better,” Lance nods. “Sure.”

After that, things are quiet as Lance sketches in silence.

*****

It’s been an hour of sitting on the beach. Keith stretches and lays down in the shallows. Submerges and breathes through his gills for a while to refresh himself. He then rolls onto his stomach and lifts onto his elbows to look up the beach at Lance.

He’s asleep, sprawled back on the sand with his sketchbook across his chest. Must still be tired from that bump on his head. That or he’s had more than enough excitement for one day with Keith’s earlier prank. With a devious smirk, Keith slowly crawls up the beach, using his fluke to push himself up the sand.

If he thinks that prank was exciting, wait till he wakes up with a scary merman above him.

He slows once he gets to Lance’s feet, so that his shifting on the sands doesn’t wake him too soon. While there he stops and stares at his toes.

Funny little things. Humans and their feet. Every foot he’s seen looks so different. This one has a scar on the underside from stepping on something sharp. Broken glass maybe.

Then there’s his gangly legs, narrow but muscled. It still blows his mind that humans ever learned how to walk, let alone swim. And compared to the length of a typical merman’s fluke, his legs look short. Though he’s seen others with even shorter ones. So Lance must be long, er, wait, ‘tall’ for his people.

Keith moves further up, eyes cataloging Lance’s appearance as he goes. He gets caught on his hands and finds himself tentatively poking at them. Lance doesn’t react so he prods them and turns them over to compare them side to side with his own.

The Koi generally have a small amount of webbing that stops at the first knuckle. Keith’s goes up one knuckle further thanks to the Galra in him. A small difference that makes him that much faster when he pushes through the water.

Lance doesn’t have any webbing at all. No claws either. He has short nails but Keith has to think they’d hardly work for self-defense or hunting. He doesn’t have spines or fins on his forearms. No scales either. Just soft, tan skin with little hairs.

And Lance, he doesn’t have a dorsal fin. How weird! Keith can’t imagine life without one. How else would he make his sharp turns? The only inconvenience with it is having to fold it down when he naps on his back. He’d spend more time looking at the sky if it were a little flatter.

With that observation, he’s finally at Lance’s face.

No gills at the neck, just skin. Reminds him of the Dolphinians a little since they don’t have gills either. Keith has nasal passages too just like them, but he closes them off when he swims underwater, opting to filter through his gills rather than going to the surface every ten minutes. It’s one of the first things that Koi types learn how to do; switch between them.

If humans are close to any type of merfolk then it’s the Dolphinians. Curious and obligate air breathers. Shorter lifespans in comparison to Koi, Altean, or Galra, but about as long as the long-lived human. The Dolphinians don’t mind the humans, even rescue them from shipwrecks. But...that’s probably because they also weren’t hunted down nearly as badly as scale species or whale types.

Lance’s ears are the most fascinating thing on his head.

Dolphinians don’t have ears, just little openings at the sides of their heads. Even Koi don’t have ears in the traditional sense. The fins at the side of their faces that humans like to call ears are really just fins. Decorative, nothing more. Near them are openings from which he actually hears.

Lance’s ears though...they’re shaped like spiral seashells. Kinda pretty actually...for a human.

For all intents and purposes, the human form is far inferior to the mer one. At least, that’s Keith’s humble opinion. He thinks this and yet...his eyes trail down to Lance’s legs again.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to walk on land for a day. To be human and be among people who didn’t know the ways in which he was different. The ways in which he felt...broken.

Humans are so unique that no two look the same. Being different is being normal. They’d hardly spare Keith a judging glance. They would never know how he is an unsightly abomination among both the Galra and the Koi and all mer-kind.

 _A_ **_perfect_ ** _meld of both species._

Shiro retranslated that conversation for clarity but Keith can’t get the original words out of his mind. Lance thinks that his combined races are nothing but a boon, both physically and aesthetically. To say he was perfect...without flaws...he inadvertently told Keith that he was beautiful as is.

No one’s ever--

Lance meant that Keith was interesting. Unique. But the way his eyes lit up as he read his notes...and the way he looks over at Keith as he draws, such keen interest on his face...he likes the idea of someone meaning it. Even if they are human.

Keith was going to startle him again. Maybe lean over his face and hiss but instead he pulls the notebook from Lance’s hand and sits up. He flips through the pages to look at Lance’s progress. He can’t read any of the notes, and there are a lot, but there are still plenty of pictures. And those are far more interesting to see.

Not all of the mer drawn inside are of Keith. Some are Dolphinians jumping through the waves. Others are the Koi sitting together and conversing. Even Shiro is in there, hoisting a net full of fish. There are a half a dozen environmental sketches too. But the ones of Keith always catch his eye.

He looks magical in them. Not dangerous or strange like he often feels. Like a creature of legend.

It’s clear that special care was taken to get the details of his form right. Swirling strokes that curl down his back and accentuate his dorsal fin. Waving lines that seem to bring his massive tail to life. Almost feels like it’ll start moving on the page. And all of it drawn by a human.

He wonders what other fun stuff Lance has in his bag.

While Lance sleeps, Keith goes through his things. Dumps out his bag unceremoniously and freezes when he thinks Lance will wake. The human just yawns, showing his dull teeth, before rolling over. Looks like the coast is clear so Keith pokes at the contents.

Pens and more books. One of the pens looks sharp and Keith concludes its a weapon of some sort. But the blade is so short, he can’t imagine it doing much damage or even being able to pierce mermaid hide. He amends that it must be a tool when he finds wooden shavings inside. For sharpening his pencils.

The books are thick and boring looking. Hardly any pictures inside at all. Keith grimaces at them and tosses them haphazardly one by one over his shoulder in disinterest.

Then he comes along a small book. It’s much thinner than the others. With a silhouette of a mermaid on the outside. Keith flips it open to find there are no words. Just pages filled with pictures and color. He flips back and forth through the pages and deduces its a story of some sort so he goes to the first part to slowly flip through.

A young mermaid falling in love with a human prince on land. She saves his life after a storm and desires to be with him from then on. Then there’s magical deal with a witch to acquire feet and walk on land to be with him. Keith’s fingers gently brush her newfound legs with interest.

But the witch had a price. The mermaid’s voice was stripped away. At the striking illustration of her voice being essentially ripped from her, Keith cups his throat with a swallow before continuing this...exciting tale.

The girl must kiss the prince to regain her voice and stay human forever. If not, she returns to being a mermaid and her soul belongs to the witch. But the prince falls in love with another and weds her instead. The mermaid nearly dies of a broken heart and the thought makes Keith’s chest ache.

Melancholy...that’s the worst way for a mer to die. Keith’s heard horror stories from the fringes of others’ conversations. He can’t imagine...Keith shakes his head and turns the page, eager to know what happens next.

The witch offers her a new deal, kill the prince before the final day and instead of dying she will stay human forever. The witch even gives her a dagger to do that deed. But the mermaid can’t bring herself to kill him. Drops the knife and at dawn casts herself into the sea to become foam among the waves. Keith stops reading at this point and scrunches his nose in disapproval at it.

What a terrible ending, he thinks and turns back to earlier pages. The story was good up until that last part. Silly but good. He likes the magical transformation part.

Magic. He wishes magic was real. Keith then scoffs at the absurdity of the idea. He’s never heard of anything or seen anything close to that. Well, other than what his mother claimed about his father’s songs.

Keith snorts. Imagine, a magic kiss to return his lost voice. Ridiculous. As if a kiss could fix him. If it were that easy he’d be speaking right now. Didn’t he technically kiss Lance when he breathed life into him? That would count, wouldn’t it?

But now that thought has him curious so he puts the book down and opens his mouth to check.

The words, like every time before, catch in his throat. He chokes and swallows before trying again but it’s strangled. Nothing more than a repeated consonant. He grumbles in annoyance tinged with disappointment. That is until he blinks with another revelation.

Maybe it didn’t count?

Lance was practically dead. If magic really is real then maybe Lance has to be awake for it. It’s worth a shot. He’ll try anything to get his voice back, even kiss some random human. What’s he got to lose?

Keith turns and leans over Lance, patting his cheek with urgency until he wakes. His eyes flutter before coming into focus on Keith’s far-too-close face.

“CHRIST! What’s--?!” Lance bolts awake and scrambles several feet back. “What are you--HEY! My stuff! What the hell are you--”

Lance gathers up his books and pens, shoving them back into the bag. His pencils, his Xacto knife, and walky talky. Looks like it’s all still there but where’s the--

He spots the children’s book clutched in Keith’s claws and extends his hand to take it. Keith holds it out of his reach and when he tries again Keith just moves it another way.

“Enough keep away,” Lance frowns and turns his hand up. “Give it back, Keith.”

Keith opens to a page and points at the illustration. The seawitch taking Ariel’s voice. Then he taps his own chest. Lance sighs and drops his hand.

“Yeah,” he nods. “You’re just like Ariel. No voice. Can I have it back now?”

Keith still won’t let him have it when he grasps for it. He flips through more pages and points to the prince. Lance decides to indulge whatever this is and stops reaching. He falls back onto his knees and sits on his ankles.

“Fine, I’ll...play along,” Lance shrugs. “What about the prince?” he asks, pointing to the prince’s picture.

Finally, Keith thinks. He taps the prince and then the mermaid before patting his chest again. Lance just looks on with uncertainty. It’s not exactly clicking.

Keith’s not sure how to convey what he wants so that Lance will understand. The mermaid never actually kisses the prince. That was the point. Then he remembers the wedding scene.

He flips the page and shows Lance the picture where the prince kisses the other girl. The one that isn’t the mermaid. He gives Lance an expectant look like he’s supposed to know what he’s saying.

“Yeah, he kissed the wrong girl,” Lance says.

Keith points at the prince and then to Lance.

“Okay...I’m...the prince?” Lance questions then smirks with pride. “I can see that. I am pretty charming.”

Keith taps Ariel and pats his chest.

“You’re Ariel,” Lance guesses while pointing and it seems like Keith’s getting his message out.

Keith then mimes out speaking, opens his mouth and mouthing words without sound. Then he taps pointedly to the point of contact between the prince and the woman. The kiss. Then he points to Lance and taps his own chest again.

A look of understanding washes over Lance. His face falls as he scratches the back of his neck timidly.

“It’s...just a story,” he mumbles while avoiding Keith’s eyes.

What did Lance say? Why does he look like that? Does he not understand? Maybe he needs to try again…?

Keith taps harder on the book in a desperate effort to get his attention again and to be clear. He tries to make words but only pitiful choking noises are emitted that turn into coughs and grunts as he repeats the whole thing. Lance just sighs, discomfort growing on his face.

“How do I explain...so that you’ll understand,” Lance whispers to himself. “It’s not real, Keith. Magic’s not...A kiss won’t--it won’t work,” he tries and shakes his head. “Even if magic was real, it would have to be your true love and that’s not--I’m not--”

It doesn’t look like Keith understands or even cares. He just gestures something to Lance and it has to be the word for ‘please’.  Keith huffs, grits his sharp teeth and signs out his words again. When he gets tired of trying he stops and takes a deep breath, a frown on his face as he looks forlornly down at the book.  

Keith’s clutching his own throat is his palm again and it pains Lance to see. He can tell Keith’s frustrated and desperately wants to speak but...it’s not magic what’s wrong with Keith’s voice. It’s likely psychosomatic. A single kiss can’t undo the trauma that took his voice.

Not that he isn’t a handsome looking merman. And Lance has only dreamed a million times in his life of making out with a mermaid on a beach. But Keith’s the subject of his studies. It wouldn’t be ethical for him to kiss Keith. No matter how sincere the intent.

Also...it’s not allowed. Part of the paperwork of working here. No romantic fraternizations with the mer. He could get expelled and banned from all the mer sanctuaries.

Besides all that, when the kiss doesn’t work, Keith will feel that much worse about it. To get his hopes up and drop them like that? Lance can’t be a part of that. Best to turn him down as gently as possible in the hopes that Keith will understand. Luckily, Shiro’s taught him this phrase in Aquan already.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Lance tells him, his voice soft and sympathetic.

Keith’s jaw clenches and his face pinches into a scowl of displeasure. He lets out an aggravated guttural noise and shoves the book roughly into Lance’s chest, knocking him over into the sand. It’s clearly not what Keith wanted to hear.

By the time Lance sits back up Keith’s already crawling back to the ocean. His flipper sends a hail of sand right into Lance’s face before he disappears into the waves. The red of his scales melts into the blue waters until he’s gone.

Lance looks over at the float but Keith doesn’t return there. There’s no sign of him anywhere. He feels terrible about it but...he knows it was the right thing to say. Leading Keith on with false hope would’ve been cruel.

He stays on the beach for a while longer but Keith doesn’t return to the beach while the sun’s still up.

*****

Dark again. Keith figures that means all the humans are gone. Including Lance. Good.

He stops resting on the bottom and swims for the surface. His float is empty so he hauls himself up and flops backward onto it with a sigh.

What was he thinking? Trying to get a human to kiss him for some silly fairy tale cure. He knows it would never work but...he wanted to try anyway. How stupid, he scolds himself. How childish!

He gently beats his fist on the float, increasing the heaviness of the hits as he goes. Gritting his teeth in frustration as he ends with a slam. A swirl of water alerts him to another’s presence. He knows it’s Shiro since no one else will come this close voluntarily. Not when he’s clearly irritated and in no mood to entertain.

“ _What’s wrong, Keith?_ ” he asks in his concerned tone.

Keith turns on his side and gives him a pointed look. What does he think is wrong? The same thing that’s always wrong. He gestures to his voice again with frustrated grunts and hoarse growls.

“ _I told you to stop trying so hard_ ,” Shiro sighs and rests his head on the float, his tail swishing back and forth behind him.

Keith slams his fist and rolls over.

“ _Just be patient_ ,” Shiro repeats.

That’s what Shiro always says and it doesn’t make him feel any better now than it ever has. Keith’s tired of hearing it. Isn’t fifteen years long enough to wait? He huffs and waves for Shiro to go away. To leave him alone.

“ _Why don’t you do something to take your mind off it?_ ” Shiro suggests. “ _All you do is sit on this float like a barnacle. The young scientists are going surfing tomorrow with the Dolphinians,_ ” he tells Keith but there’s no response. He then adds, “ _You could join them. They’ve invited all mer who want to. Includes you._ ”

Keith sits up and declines the offer. Vehemently says ‘no’ multiple times with his harsh gestures. Then tells Shiro to stop treating him like a kid.

“ _You still are a kid, Keith_ ,” Shiro sighs with a smile, using his hand to send up a splash of water at him.

Keith just frowns and wipes his face, flinging the droplets back into the ocean.

“ _You can either be a kid having good time or a kid throwing a tantrum,_ ” Shiro tells him. “ _Either way you’re acting like a child--might as well pick the one that’s more fun_.”

Keith grits his teeth and hisses as he gestures at the beach. The group of Dolphinians there are smiling and laughing with one another. He pats his chest and points over at them before signing them scattering into the water.

“ _If they’re scared of you it’s because you act like a rogue shark around them_ ,” Shiro explains. “ _You’re so stiff and unpredictable, they think you want a fight all the time. It makes them nervous. Makes them think you’re…_ ”

Keith interrupts with a familiar sign and a glare. A monster? Is that what he was going to say? Then just say it. Shiro sighs sympathetically as Keith huffs an angry snort and turns his back on the beach.

“ _Go surfing with them tomorrow_ ,” Shiro suggests. “ _Show them; they’re wrong about you_.”

He slashes his hand in a rigid movement in front of him. No. Keith signs another symbol, points at the mer on the beach, and then slashes again. Keith doesn’t owe them anything. Doesn’t need to prove himself to anyone. Shiro looks to the sky and sighs again.

 _“Fine, Keith. Can’t be said that I didn’t_ **_try_ ** ,” Shiro tells him and turns to go. “ _Which is more than I can say for you. Good night, Keith. See you in the morning._ ”

Shiro sinks into the water and swims for the shore to join the other Koi. They’re going to be doing some singing tonight on one of the floats near the caves. A favor for Matt and his studies. Means there will be a lot of Koi out tonight, chanting out old songs.

Sometimes Keith wonders if the other Koi talk about him. Even if he went over there he’d still be an outsider. No speech. Fierce appearance. And absolutely no social skills. Shiro could tell them he’s the nicest merman with the most amazing singing voice but it wouldn’t matter because he looks too dangerous; no one will trust him.

Surfing tomorrow would be no different. The Dolphinians would allow him to join, provided he at least feigned friendliness, but they would never be comfortable with his presence. And by the end of the day, nothing would change. Not a single one of them would approach him on his float. They would still openly avoid him and talk about him in hushed whispers.

He’d still be as alone as he ever was.

Not worth the trouble.

Keith spots the flicker of flashlights from the popped up research tent on the treeline. Belongs to the scientists. Matt and Sam are heading over to the beach, to record the Koi singing. The littlest scientist and the tall, broad human are on the opposite side of the beach already, taking video and photos of the Alteans as they flash their colors on their distant float.

There’s still a light in the tent and the silhouette of one more person. Tall and lanky as he paces between the desks with papers in his hands. Probably Lance. It’s confirmed when he picks up the electric lantern and exits the tent, heading for the shoreline...towards Keith’s float.

Keith slips off it long before he gets close and uses the float as a barrier between him and the beach. Between him and Lance. The dark makes it hard for Keith to be spotted so he peeks out from behind the float to watch for when Lance leaves again.

This is the fourth time he’s come down to look for Keith. Each time Keith’s made sure he wasn’t there to be seen. He doesn’t want to see the human or confront the harsh truth; that he was being unreasonable. And selfish. And even though Lance should probably be mad at him for imposing his demands on him...it hasn’t stopped the human from coming out to check on him.

Would he look for Keith tomorrow on the horizon? Hoping that he’d come surfing with them?

While coming down the steep treeline Lance trips and slides the rest of the way down on his ass. When he reaches the bottom he snorts with a laugh. He’s fine it seems, and he stands up to dust off the seat of his pants.

Keith rolls his eyes and wonders if he’ll be okay surfing tomorrow. With how clumsy Lance is he’ll probably fall off his board and drown. Just like that night on the docks. If Keith hadn’t been there…

“Keith, you out there?” Lance asks and raises the lantern towards the floating dock.

He ducks his head under the water just before the light reaches him. But even from several inches under the surface he can see the glow of the lamp. Lance keeps searching for a minute but lowers the light with a disappointed sigh. He shakes his head, discouraged.

What did he expect? It’s not like Keith would understand him anyway. Lance asked Shiro to tell Keith about their surf trip tomorrow. To tell him he was welcome to come but...with the way he stormed off before maybe he won’t care to.

He wishes he could apologize to Keith. To fully explain why he said what he did. That it was never his intention to hurt his feelings...but his grasp of Aquan is weak. He barely knows three words and he’s fairly sure he’s saying them wrong half the time.

Lance lets out another tired sigh and takes a knee. He stacks up a couple of mangoes--a peace offering--that he hopes Keith will see and accept before someone else comes along and takes them. After that, he heads back to the tent to grab his things before returning home to the Holt abode for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, and Edhelwen. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*
> 
> TAGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY

_Those who live by the sea can hardly form a single thought of which the sea would not be part._

_\--Hermann Broch_

 

Lance is excited beyond measure to have a day off to go surfing with his friends. Sure, he’d love to study merfolk non-stop, but a break is more than needed. Any longer in front of his screen and he was going to fry his brain. Pidge too.

Poor Pidge. She’s a little frustrated at not being able to get closer to the Alteans for her paper. It’s only the first week of the migration so she doesn’t have much to worry about yet, but you couldn’t tell her that. She’s pulling out her hair as she works. Hunk had to practically pry her off the computer to get her to come surfing with them.

Matt’s coming too, but says he’ll show a little late. He wants to download that song Lance sent him and run it through some programs. He promises to be there just half an hour behind them.

So the three of them grab their boards and sunscreen. Hunk packs a waterproof bag with a couple meals in it, in case they want to veg out on their boards and snack when they’re done. Lance brings a bag with towels but secures it in a beach locker for when they get back.

“Ready?” Hunk asks as he passes Lance his board back.

“Towels: locked up,” Lance nods and takes it. “You got the bag of snacks?” he asks and Hunk nods. “Then let’s go!”

“Come on! Wait a second!” Pidge gripes as she quickly tries massaging in the last of her sunscreen on her face. “If I don’t do this I’m going to turn into a Maine lobster.”

“I think you’re good, Pidge,” Lance snorts. “SPF 100 is more than enough.”

“Ha ha,” she says, no amusement in her tone. “Kiss my ass. You don’t have to worry as much Mr. natural tan.”

“I was born with it.” Lance grins. “You’re just jealous.”

“Quit fighting you two,” Hunk scolds. “I want to hit the waves while they’re still good.”

They paddle out past the tourists and sit on their boards for a moment. Lance has the best eyesight so he scans the landscape looking for their Dolphinian pals. No sign yet. Then Hunk blows a whistle in three short bursts. Within moments there’s splashing coming from the direction of the bay.

“Pigeon! Lance!” shouts one with a big smile.

“Hunk! Surf time!” exclaims another with excited clicking.

“You know it!” Hunk smiles back.

Lance scans the horizon again. For a second he thinks he sees red but it was so fast. And he doesn’t see it again. A trick of the light he guesses. Or just wishful thinking.

“Oh, well,” Lance sighs, disappointed. He then turns to the others with a beaming grin. “Let’s hit the waves!”

The swells are perfect today. Just the right height and speed. And even though the three of them are decent surfers in their own ways, they wipe out a number of times. It’s not too much trouble though because the Dolphinians retrieve the boards and pull their human friends to them so they can get back on and back to surfing faster. They’d be scraped to hell and back if not for their rashguards.

Each time they take a minute to resituate Lance looks out for Keith again. Can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. Like when prey is being stalked. Like something’s out there, but too fast for Lance to catch sight of.

Matt finally joins them, talking at length about the song Lance gave him. Phenomenal he says. Almost stayed behind to just listen to it over and over. The tones are indicative of Northern Japanese Koi, which is interesting because--

“Maaaatt,” Pidge groans. “We came out here to stop thinking. Take a break will you?”

“Right,” Matt flushes with an embarrassed laugh. “It’s just--”

Pidge reaches over and flips his board with him on it. The Dolphinians burst with clicking laughter and chattering noises. Matt breaches with a laugh and clambers back onto his board.

“Fine, fine! I get it!” he chuckles. “No work.”

“Just play!” one of the Dolphinian girls giggles as she pushes him back onto his board.  

Play it is. They return to the swells to surf without delay and have an absolute blast doing so.

An hour passes before Hunk calls the fun on account of Hungry. The Dolphinians don’t seem to have a problem with this. Gives them a chance to watch the humans eat and ask curious questions about their food. They almost sound like children with how simple and sincere their interest is.

Lance is chewing on a handful of trail mix when he sees it. A head bobbing in the water but then a flash of red dorsal. It really is Keith. Watching them but staying far away. It’s almost like he...

“Hey, do you know anything about Keith?” Lance asks the Dolphinian leaning on his board. The leader of their little entourage, a girl with short mousy hair and wide shining eyes. Kayleen.

“Who?” she asks, blinking curiously.

“The red Galra,” Lance elaborates and she gives him an uncertain frown. She clicks at the others and they come closer to Lance’s board. “Anything you know would be helpful.”

“We do not know him well,” she admits.

“He is...scary,” says a brown-haired mer with shells braided into his locks.

“He watches like a shark,” Kayleen says. “He killed one when we traveled.”

“I saw. It attacked a child. The red one, he…” starts a girl with blues eyes and a scar on her lip. She pauses, lost in thought at the memory. “He destroyed it,” she manages to shudder out.

“That’s good though, right?” Lance asks. “Did he save the kid?”

They all share an uncomfortable look. A few clicks and words in Aquan later, the leader turns to him.

“Yes. The child lives,” she reveals but looks at her hands as they grip Lance’s board. “But how he fights…”

He nods for her to continue but she shakes her head, not sure of the words. Kayleen turns to Matt and says a few phrases in Aquan. Matt listens and nods before turning to Lance, expression solemn.

“She says you wouldn’t know it was a shark when he was finished with it,” Matt summarizes.

“Yikes,” Hunk grimaces.

“Ditto,” Pidge nods.

“It is too much. Too far. Too scary,” says the boy with shells in his hair.

“But he didn't hurt any of you, right?” Lance brings up.

“No,” the leader agrees. “But he could.”

“Just because he could, doesn’t mean he will,” Lance points out and nods his head to the horizon. “Look, he’s over there.”

Everyone, humans and mer, look over to where he indicates and just barely catch the red from Keith’s dorsal as he dives out of sight. The Dolphinians share a few more uncomfortable looks. They don’t know what to do with this knowledge. But Lance does.

“Looks like he wants to surf with us,” Lance tells them. “But I think he’s scared...of you all.”

The Dolphinians click out incredulous laughter at that, as if that’s the silliest thing they had ever heard. They are not dangerous, they say. No claws for rending flesh. No sharp teeth for biting. Plus, Keith is bigger and faster than they are. In no way could they ever be a threat to him, even if it was three on one.

“I don’t think he’s worried you’ll hurt him,” Lance snorts out a chuckle. “He’s afraid of you being afraid.”

“But he likes to scare,” Kayleen insists.

“He smiles after scares,” the boy adds and the scarred lip girl nods in agreement.

“But does he hurt anyone?” he asks and they reluctantly shake their heads. “Maybe he does it so you’ll take notice. How often do you talk to him?”

“Never,” they all admit.

“Then...wouldn’t you be a little pissed off too?” Lance asks, his eyes lidding. “I would be,” he adds with a sigh.

Lance looks out into the open ocean and waves at Keith when he spots his head again. Keith doesn’t dive away this time. He’s been caught, no point in hiding anymore. Even so, he doesn’t get any closer.

“Lance is right, it makes sense,” Pidge hums, tapping her chin. “If he really liked scaring or hurting people...why would he stay so far back now?”

“I...do not know,” confesses the Dolphinian leader as she looks to the others. “Lorna?”

“I never think about it,” answers the scarred girl. “A Galra...afraid? I did not think it was possible.”

Lance has an idea.

“Invite him to surf with us,” Lance tells Kayleen, leveling a charming smile her way. “It’ll mean a lot coming from you.”

The Dolphinians talk amongst themselves for a moment. It’s clear they’re uncertain about it but they’re willing to try, if for no other reason than to impress their human friends. So Kayleen pulls herself up to sit on Lance’s board then cups her hands around her mouth.

“ _Come surf with us, red one! Race us and the humans! It’ll be fun!_ ” she shouts.

Keith dives and for a moment they think he’s left but he surfaces a few seconds later. He’s much closer now, though he’s still a good distance away. Clearly hesitant. Lance beckons him to come closer with a smile and Keith warily closes the distance.

Why is Lance smiling? Isn’t he mad about yesterday? How can he okay with Keith being there? How can any of them be okay with it?

Keith gives them an uncertain frown and gestures out something at Lance. With the guilty look on his face, Lance guesses it’s an apology. Or something like it. Lance just shrugs with a smile, indicating that he’s not holding a grudge at all. Seems to put Keith at ease, if only a little.

Keith might not surf with them, but at least he’s closer. That’s good enough for Lance.

“Alright,” Lance smirks and gets on his belly to paddle them out to the swells. “Let’s hit those waves again!”

The Dolphinians have a grand time keeping up with their boards. Jumping out of the swells right in front of them only to splash back into the wave to follow their human surfers. Ends up wiping Pidge out several times, but she gets back up for the next wave with their help.

This is Lance’s favorite part. He loves looking into the barrel of the wave and seeing them on the other side. In Cuba, he never saw merfolk but saw plenty of dolphins, so the view is fairly familiar. Grey shadows keeping time with him. Very nostalgic.

Then a flash of red comes up beside him and Lance’s eyes widen with shock.

The shadow of the Galra inside is keeping up with him with minimal effort. Gliding and doing barrel rolls within the wave. He’s faster on his spins than the Dolphinians and speeds ahead to jump out of the wall ahead of Lance. Misses by a mile but it doesn’t look like he was trying to trip Lance up. He just dives back under to go back into the wave and jump again.

Lance catches Keith’s smug smile as he jumps out each time. Each look directed at the surfer tailing him, daring him to just try and keep up. Lance knows an issued challenge when he sees one and he’s never been one to back down from one of those.

He hoots with an excited grin of his own and gets low to carve the wall, trying to increase his speed so he can catch up with Keith down the barrel. More than once he wipes out, losing control of his board from going too fast but he quickly gets back up on it. He paddles out to a new wave and rejoins Keith on the swells.

Keith can’t believe it, but he’s having fun. And not that short little high he gets from pranking humans at the docks. Actual fun. It’s been so long since he smiled like this. He’s even got the Dolphinians trying their hardest to keep up with him. Like a race. Other than Shiro...he’s never been this close to other mer before without them booking it away from him.

And Lance, he won’t give up trying to beat Keith down the barrel. He loses every time because his board just can’t keep up with Keith’s streamlined body and fins built for speed. But he doesn’t stop trying. That is, he doesn’t quit until the oldest human begs for mercy. Matt’s exhausted and Pidge is too, so they need to take a break.

The Dolphinians relate to Keith that the humans are tired. They need rest. Shame. Keith could do this for several more hours, but he just nods in understanding and joins the rest of them at the surface.

The group gathers out in the less populated open waters. Each human latches their board to each other so they don’t drift apart. Then they kick back to relax in the sun.

Pidge reapplies sunscreen to her face and tosses it to her brother too, but it’s a little late for him. Sunburn on his nose. Hunk pulls out a little waterproof radio and clicks it to a local station. One of the Dolphinians listens to it with him, bobbing her head to the beat. All of them seem to like listening to the human music.

“This was fun,” Matt sighs as he lays back on his board.

“Yeah, we needed his break,” Pidge agrees. “My computer was frying my brain.”

“Uh, that’s what I told you earlier. I had to pull you away from your computer to get you here,” Hunk snorts. “And only now you agree with me?”

“Yeah, well...you were right. This time,” she says.

“What a perk of the job,” Lance hums cheerfully. “Getting to surf with mermaids. How many people get to do that, huh?”

“Not many,” Matt smirks. “Enjoy it while you can.”

One of the Dolphinians starts diving to the bottom and pulling up sea stars to show Hunk and Pidge. The others rest, floating on their backs with content smiles. Keith’s floating too, absorbing the warm rays with closed eyes.

Lance smirks with an idea. He lowers a hand into the water and squirts a little jet onto Keith’s face. The Galra opens his eyes with an annoyed look to find Lance chuckling. No ill intentions from Lance, so Keith’s face softens from annoyance to a smirk. He then flicks his ear fin and splashes seawater right into Lance’s open mouth.

“Gross!” Lance snorts and spits the water out.

Keith grins with victory until Lance slaps the water to splash him more. Keith, in turn, sinks into the waves and pushes the board over. Once Lance gets back on it with a laugh, he raises a hand to concede defeat. Lance lays back onto the board and rests on his crossed arms as he looks into the water.

“Did we ever actually introduce ourselves?” Lance wonders and shakes his head. “I don’t think we did.”

Keith simply quirks a brow at him. So Lance sits up and dips his legs back into the water. He pats his chest with a smile.

“Lance,” he says and extends his hand to Keith. “Nice to meet you, Keith.”

Keith regards the hand curiously but is familiar enough with the custom. He saw the Dolphinians the other day do this with the humans. Some kind of offering of goodwill. So Lance wants to offer him goodwill too? Like with the Dolphinians?

The red merman tentatively takes Lance’s hand and for a second Lance thinks Keith is going to pull him off the board. It would fall in line with his pranking nature. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shakes the hand like he’s supposed to with the beginning of a smile.

“ _Friends_?” Lance asks him in Aquan, courtesy of Shiro.

Friends? Why does that make his chest feel light? And warm?

Keith gives him a smile and takes his hand back. Points at Lance and then gestures out a new symbol. He presses his middle and index fingers together on each hand. Then he taps them together, one on top of the other. Twice.

“I really hope that means ‘friend’ and not ‘moron’ or ‘idiot’,” Lance chuckles.

Lance copies it and looks to Keith to see if he did it right. Keith nods. So Lance pats his own chest, points at Keith, and then does the symbol again. Lance and Keith. Friends. Keith snorts at his stiff signing but it's close enough so he nods.

Maybe this guy isn’t so bad, they both think as they chuckle.

“Lance, pull your legs up. Right now.”

The warning came from Pidge, whose eyes are on the open sea. Neither of them noticed but it’s gotten quiet. Deathly so. Hunk’s turned off his radio and there are no giggling Dolphinians. Gone. They’ve booked it out of there and Lance’s heart drops when he sees why.

A big shark fin on the horizon.

And coming closer.

“We must have drifted too far out,” Matt mumbles. “Your legs, Lance,” he reminds him.

“Got it,” Lance whispers and brings his legs slowly out of the water and up onto the board.

He pulls the dive knife strapped to his calf for emergencies and hopes that he doesn’t have to use it. Pidge pulls hers too and swallows nervously. Keith is on full alert, his ridges sticking up as his eyes hone in on the shark’s dorsal.

“What is it? Species?” Lance asks. “Matt? Hunk?”

“Can’t tell. It’s too far,” Matt says.

“It’s big,” Hunk tells them. “Just don’t move. Might turn around.”

No such luck.

It doesn’t turn but instead comes closer to the boards. The closer it gets the more Keith bristles.  Lance glances down and sees he’s baring his razor-sharp teeth. His back is hunched and his eyes boring holes through the waves at the approaching shark. Almost looks ready to--

“Keith don’t!” Lance says but he’s already underwater trying to head it off.

He can’t fight that thing on his own he’ll--

“Lance! Stay on the board!” Matt warns as Lance makes a move to dive. “Don’t move!”

Fuck, Lance hates this! It’s not safe for them to interfere but...is he really supposed to sit here and do nothing? What about Keith? That shark is huge! What if--

The shark fin disappears under the water and they all hold their breath. In seconds the water erupts with violent splashing. A silver tail, then a sharp red one flailing and thrashing. Keith’s dorsal breaches for a second and then there’s a gush of red water making Lance go palid.

Blood. But whose is it? The shark’s? Or...?

The water churns with it until suddenly...the splashing stops.

“Is it…dead?” Pidge swallows.

“I don’t know,” Matt answers. “Don’t move yet.”

There’s so much red in the water and it just spreads with each wave. Then a shadow appears under it, heading right for them. But when Keith’s face breaches the surface everyone lets out sighs of relief.

“He’s okay,” Lance gratefully announces as he slides the dive knife back into its sleeve.

“Yeah, if he died, who would you write your paper on?” Pidge says sarcastically.

“That’s not what I meant Pidge!”

“We should get going,” Hunk reminds them. “All this blood in the water, it’ll draw more.”

Keith seems to be in agreement with that sentiment. He urges them to go towards the beach with a pushing hand. He doesn’t look injured at all from what they can see above the waves but...Lance catches a wince right before he dives and that worries him.

They paddle back to the beach as quickly as possible. Once there, they inform the beach authorities of the sighting. Tiger shark from what Hunk could identify. Since it didn’t come within a certain distance of the beach they aren’t too concerned about it, but they do issue a beach-wide warning of a sighting on the outer reaches. And then warn the three of them against drifting that far out again.

At the lockers, they dry off and pull on their shirts and shoes.

“Shame,” Hunk sighs as he towels off. “I hate it when sharks get killed. Makes it look like they’re bad. They’re just animals doing their thing.”

“The Galra probably thought it was coming for him,” Matt says. “Sharks always pick off lone merfolk. Easy meal.”

“Well, it bit more off than it could chew with Keith,” Pidge snorts. “Eviscerated. Shark sushi.”

“Hunk, can you take my board back to the house?” Lance asks as he hurriedly shoulders his bag.

“Sure but where are--”

“Thanks, buddy, owe you one!” Lance calls out over his shoulder as he hops on his bike to take off up the street.

“What’s the hurry, Lance?” Matt calls out, but he’s long gone.

Lance pedals as fast as he can. He wants to hit the sanctuary. There’s this nagging feeling low in his gut that Keith didn’t get out of that tussle scot-free.There’s also this horrid guilt in his heart, like this is his fault somehow and he’ll never be able to sleep at night if he doesn’t at least check up on Keith.

That bad feeling is confirmed as he makes it down the treeline at the bay. In the distance he can see the area surrounding Keith’s float. It’s crowded with mer. At least a couple dozen or more. As he runs to get closer he can see Shiro’s on the float along with Sam Holt, and between them is Keith lying flat on his stomach.

The Galra isn’t moving much. Not a good sign making that guilt deepen.

“Lance! Great timing!” Holt calls out. “Get over here, I could use another set of hands!”

“Yes sir!” Lance answers and dumps his stuff on the beach.

He pulls off his shoes but doesn’t bother with his shirt before jumping in. He swims his way over to the float as quickly as he can. The mer part the way as he approaches and one of them helps push him up onto the little dock. Nothing could have prepared him for what he sees.

Long raking marks down Keith’s shoulder and back from where the shark’s teeth bit in and tore. Sections of shredded skin with raw flesh exposed. It’s worse than any cut or scrape Lance has ever gotten in his life.

And god, the blood. It’s dripping down his back in thick drips, coating the float with small puddles of red to match his scales. The air is thick with that metallic smell and just looking is making Lance feel nauseous.

Keith himself breathes raggedly against the dock, wincing in unspeakable pain as Holt dabs the injury with a chemical-soaked cotton ball. A liquid coagulant. He tosses it aside to join the growing pile of blood-soaked swabs. There’s gotta be about thirty already. Lance is absolutely horrified at the sight.

“He--” Lance starts.

“He told me. A shark.” Shiro nods. “He’ll be fine now.”

“I wanted to get a closer look at the Galra merman, Shiro, but this isn’t how I hoped it would happen,” Sam says sadly and dabs a fresh swab. “If he didn’t have the bay to retreat to...he wouldn’t have survived long out there.”

“Is it that bad?” Lance asks as he takes a knee. It looks even worse up close. “Is he...going to die?”

“No, no,” Holt assures him. “The injury itself isn’t as bad as it looks. Just painful. But the bleeding would have put him in danger of more predators.”

Holt continues to dab his injuries but now with stinging disinfectant chemicals. Keith indicates his extreme displeasure with a growl, smacking his fist on the float in his pain. He hisses and spits at his onlookers, frightening most of them into scattering. A few less eyes do make him feel a little better and he goes back to raking his claws on the float each time Holt dabs.

“ _Stop moving_ ,” Shiro scolds him. “ _Or they won’t be able to help._ ”

Keith growls but does his best to comply.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t just...run away,” Lance says, handing Holt a newly soaked cotton ball.

“It’s not in Keith’s nature to run from danger,” Shiro reveals. “He’d rather fight than hide.”

“That’s--that’s stupid,” Lance exclaims and turns his head to address Keith. “You’re an idiot. A moron!”

Shiro just chuckles in response.

“He’s going to need stitches, Shiro,” Holt says once he’s finally done cleaning the wound. “Will he sit still for that?”

Shiro gets down closer to Keith’s face and whispers calmly. He explains what needs to happen. Asks if he’ll be able to handle it. Keith swallows as his eyes scan back and forth frantically in thought. He’s not sure about this but...open wounds are usually death wishes out in the open ocean. He might not have any choice.

“We can’t use anesthetics on him. Pain medications either,” Holt reveals. “We know so little about Galra physiology that we don’t know how he’ll react to them.”

The new information is relayed to Keith and he bites his lip at the prospect of how painful this is going to be. But that’s nothing new to him. He’s lived this long without pain relief, what’s another thirty minutes?

He closes his eyes and nods again before flattening his face against the platform with a deep resigned sigh, steeling himself for the incoming pain. Shiro nods to tell them he’s ready.

“Lance, rinse your hands with this,” Holt tells him and Lance does it. “Now, this will go a lot smoother if you hold the gashes closed as I stitch. Got it?”

“Got it,” Lance nods.

This will be the first he's gotten to touch Keith without the preface of a prank.

His skin...is surprisingly warm and it feels almost human. It's got a slight natural slick to it that all Koi have. So smooth, though he imagines the scales are much rougher. Lance puts his fingers to the first injury and gently presses the torn skin closer together. Keith, in turn, takes a deep breath and holds in a hiss as they begin stitching.

“Well, if you'd just run then this wouldn’t--”

Lance stops talking when he sees that Keith’s face isn't dripping with sea water but with tears. He pinches his eyes shut as another stream of water cuts a new path down his cheeks. It hurts so badly that he's raking his claws into the dock as they go. Even if Keith did understand him, now’s hardly the time for a scolding.

Suddenly Keith is humming. Low quiet vocalizations that tremble with each insertion of the needle. Almost gives Sam cause to pause but he continues his work.

“Listen to that,” Sam says in awe. “Is he singing Shiro?”

“Yes. He does that when he's upset,” Shiro nods. “To soothe himself.”

Lance feels that familiar sensation again, like a pin being pressed slowly into his heart. An ache in his chest that grows with each note. His eyes are even starting to water so he blinks it back to prevent himself from crying.

He has to wonder--is he experiencing Keith's pain? Is that what he was feeling before with that melancholic song at the docks?

Back then it felt like homesickness. But this...is so much worse. Painful agony tinged with bitter regret and a sensation of...an event experienced more than once. Like deja vu. Lance’s eyes lid as he comes to a somber conclusion.

“He saw the shark that killed his mom, didn't he?” Lance asks Shiro quietly.

“Yes,” Shiro solemnly nods.

“Bet he didn't run away then either,” Lance frowns as Keith bites back another growl followed by an exasperated whimper.

“No,” Shiro sighs with a shake of his head. “He didn't.”

“Did he even call for help?” Lance asks.

“He did, but they were in dangerous waters,” Shiro reveals. “From what I understand...no one came.”

What a horrible story. And according to what Shiro’s told him before...Keith never spoke again.

Why bother when no one is going to listen?

The Koi and Dolphinians probably had their reasons, Lance tries to justify. Why risk the pod for two mer, one of which was already mortally wounded? Or maybe they were too far? No point in putting them all in danger for one mer, one that isn’t even truly one of them. If he survived, sure, they’d allow him to stay but they weren’t about to give up any lives for Keith’s or his Galra mother’s.

It’s little wonder Keith can’t stand to be near them. Part of him likely resents them all.

Finally, the last gash is stitched closed. Five deep marks and a few smaller ones still stained with blood. It looks pretty nasty and Lance can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy each time Keith takes in and lets out a ragged breath. It looks like he’s about to slink back into the water but Holt urgently advises against it in Aquan.

“ _Don’t move yet_ ,” he tells him. “Shiro, he needs to keep these out of the water for a bit longer. I’ll get some waterproof adhesive strips so he can submerge, but for the moment he needs to stay still.”

Shiro relays the information and Keith nods with a shaky sigh. His scales itch and he feels dry but he’s too tired to fight on it. He presses his face into the floating dock while Dr. Holt climbs back into his little dingy.

“I’ll be back soon. Lance, stay and keep an eye on him,” he instructs pointing to his charge. “Do a last dab with the antiseptics,” he says and tosses him a walky. “And radio me if he shows signs of distress.”

“Yes, sir,” Lance nods and clips the walky to his damp swim trunks.

Shiro escorts Holt back to shore, pulling his boat by the rope to get him there that much faster.

In the meantime, Lance takes a seat and gets to dabbing at the stitches. Keith winces and scratches the dock. There’s got to be at least six or seven dozen marks torn into the thick plastic of the float now. He’s trying his hardest not to glare at Lance as he knows he’s only trying to help.

“You’re so dumb,” Lance sighs as he cleans the wounds. “Could have gotten yourself killed…”

Keith just rests his cheek on the dock to sing quietly. No energy for anything more than a light whimpering hum. And damn, it’s pulling at Lance’s heart again. Especially with Keith’s brows furrowed and eyes pinched shut in anguish.

Lance says nothing for a while after that. Just finishes the cleaning and monitors his breathing. He scoops his hand into the water and sprinkles Keith’s fin with it. His scales must be getting dry and he knows that’s bad for scale species. Keith does nothing in response to this, in fact, it looks like he’s fallen asleep.

Before long, Holt is returning on the little boat with Shiro tugging it to get there faster.

“Keith,” Lance says and the mer’s eyes flit open. He jerks his head in the direction of the approaching boat and Keith despondently sighs. He’s ready to get this over with.

Holt hops off and gets started. They dry only the areas where the bandages will lay and start plastering them on. Normally, they wouldn’t bother with these, but with how often Keith is on his own, the last thing they want are his wounds opening and attracting more sharks to himself. The bandaging will be itchy and uncomfortable, but it’ll keep from adding blood to the water.

“There, that should allow it to heal unhindered,” Holt says after the final one is in place. “Clear adhesive so we can monitor the progress of healing. They should wear off in a week or two. And the stitches will degrade over time so no need to take them out.”

Shiro explains in laymen’s terms to Keith. They’ll come off eventually. And best of all, he won’t have to worry about the doctor pulling out his stitches. No more people touching him if he doesn’t want them too.

“No vigorous swimming. No surfing. And he shouldn’t hunt for a while,” Holt lists off and Shiro repeats.

Keith gets it already and slowly lowers himself into the water with a relieved sigh. Feels good to be wet again. He dips until he’s completely submerged before returning to the surface with another sigh. Hurt, but refreshed.

“If he can’t hunt, how will he get food?” Lance asks, a bit of worry on his face. “Shiro?”

“He doesn’t help with the communal fishing so the others might not be keen on helping him,” Shiro admits.

“What if I do it?” Lance asks and all eyes fall on him. Both Shiro and Holt exchange looks of uncertainty.

Keith notices the change in atmosphere and scans between them all. He’s not sure what’s being discussed as Shiro’s stopped translating. Keith taps his claw on the platform and raises a brow at Shiro. He wants to know what’s going on, but none of them are speaking his language.

“I can bring him some fish from the market. Fruit too,” Lance explains. “For a week.”

“The program can’t spare a lot in the ways of resources to feed a merman,” Holt tells him. “Not even a rare one like Keith.”

“I know but--”

“They eat a great deal, Lance. About twenty-two pounds of fish a day, at minimum,” Holt continues and gestures at Keith. “And with his size, I’d go as high as thirty pounds.”

“I understand,” Lance assures him. “I’ll pay for it with my weekly stipend.”

He feels like he owes Keith after he fought that shark for them. It’s clear he did it to protect his new friends. His heart was in the right place even if it was a brash and foolish decision. Means Lance will have to give up some of his extracurriculars at the local dance halls and bars for the next week, but so be it.

“Shiro? Thoughts?” Holt asks.

“I might have time to fish for him but if Lance wants to help, I won’t turn my nose up at it,” Shiro shrugs with a smile.

“Great!” Lance beams.

Keith smacks the platform, harder this time with a grunt, clearly displeased at being ignored.

“That is...” Shiro starts. “That’s if Keith is, ah...amenable to it.”

“Just ask him,” Lance insists. “See if it’s cool if I bring him food until he’s healed.”

Shiro does so and within a sentence Keith’s frowning and wrinkling his nose. Not the most reassuring of signs.

He gestures at Shiro shaking his head. Seems like he suddenly has more energy when arguing is the task. His signs get faster as Shiro tries to talk over him. Keith, in response, smacks his hand on the platform to get him to shut up and re-signs his words.

Looks like an argument from the look on their stern faces. Shiro is frustrated but maintaining some semblance of patience. Keith, on the other hand, is practically glaring with bared teeth because Shiro keeps cutting off his words and it’s pissing Keith off to the point of hissing. This time he slams both hands on the dock several times making both humans jump. Keith then gestures to his ears, almost as if to say ‘listen!’

“What’s his problem with it?” Lance wonders.

“He’s being stubborn,” Shiro huffs with slight annoyance and swears in Aquan. Keith just responds with a rude gesture of his own. “He wants to be left alone.”

“What did he say exactly?” Lance asks and Shiro says something in his native tongue. Keith huffs and repeats himself with his gestures.

“‘I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help,’” Shiro says as he signs. “‘I’d rather starve than become someone else’s burden.’”

“Is this--” Lance gestures it out “--burden?”

Shiro nods and Lance gets to his knees at the edge of the float. Keith sinks away from him and deeper into the water, watching cautiously.

“Keith,” Lance starts and taps his chest before pointing to Keith and signing the word he learned from him earlier.

Me. And you. Friends. After that, he gives Keith a look as if waiting for a response.

It’s a question, he realizes. Lance wants to know if Keith considers them friends. Keith furrows his brow. What kind of question is that? Wasn’t he clear earlier? He nods warily as if he’s unsure why Lance is asking.

Lance signs the word ‘burden’ and shakes his head. Then he signs further. You. And me. Friends. You. Not burden. Lance can only hope he understands.

He does.

Keith looks away with a frown, rubbing his sore shoulder. He doesn’t want to go hungry. And Lance is trying to assure him it won’t be any trouble. Still feels like he’s inconveniencing them though. When he looks back, Lance is waiting for a response with a concerned but serious look.

Ugh...he’s never going to let it go. Probably end up doing it anyway despite what Keith says. Nosy little shit.

Keith rolls his eyes with a resigned huff and signs out a quick gesture. Shiro looks relieved. Lance doesn’t look away from him but asks aloud what Keith said.

“Three days. You can help,” Shiro informs him. “No more.”

“Better than nothing.” Lance beams and rubs his hands together. “I’ll take it. That’ll be a little easier on my wallet too.”

Keith does a couple more simple gestures and then gives them his back to swim away.

“Says he eats anything,” Shiro translates further. “No preference.”

“Great. Cheap fish it is.”

“He’s a liar by the way,” Shiro reveals with a smirk. “He has a favorite. Āweoweo.”

At the mention of Āweoweo, Keith whirls with clenched teeth and flushed cheeks. His face splashed in utter disbelief that Shiro would do this, deliberately say something different from what he asked. The amount of disrespect--

He picks up a wad of sea kelp and pelts Shiro with it with a growl. It hits him in the face with a splat and Shiro laughs as Keith gestures rudely at the older Koi.

“I’ve never seen him eat it,” Lance says, taking a step back in case Keith wants to throw more. He doesn’t, probably because it hurt his back from the look of that wince, but he is still breathing heavy and looks ticked beyond reason.

“It’s nocturnal and he doesn’t see well at night,” Shiro says, peeling the plant from himself and tossing it back into the water. “He has Koi eyesight instead of Galra. So it’s a rare treat for him.”

“Really?” Lance smirks.

Keith sees the looks exchanged between them and looks back and forth in slight panic. He knows collusion when he sees it. His signing renews but this time at the both of them as if Lance can understand him. Actually, with the way he’s huffing and grunting as he jabs his clawed fingers at them in annoyance, Lance can pretty much figure it out.

“I’m guessing something along the lines of ‘don’t you dare bring me that’,” Lance snickers and Shiro chuckles.

“That’s...startlingly accurate,” Shiro nods with a smile. “You’re missing a few obscenities and threats though.”

“Tell him to chill his frills, I won’t bring it,” Lance laughs.

Shiro tells him as much and it does seem to calm Keith a little. He even relaxes with a sigh. Good. He doesn’t want some human bring him special food or anything else like he’s some infant. So patronizing. He hates that.

And now, since Keith’s float is entirely too crowded, he slips underwater and swims calmly away to the beach instead, finding a spot in the shallows to relax.

“You know, I think you’re the first friend he’s made,” Shiro says, a glimmer of pride while looking at Keith.

“What about you?” Lance questions. “Aren’t you his--”

“I don’t count,” Shiro shakes his head with a soft look. “We’re family.”

Shiro, content knowing that Keith’s okay, returns to the group of Koi with a polite nod. Holt soaks up the rest of Keith’s blood with a towel to keep more from chumming the water before returning to his dingy. He offers Lance a spot in the boat to take him back to the bay’s little dock but Lance declines. His stuff is still on the beach where he dropped it. So he tosses the walky back to Holt and just swims to the beach from Keith’s float.

Despite his energetic argument, Keith is exhausted. And his back is killing him.

That shark was bigger than any shark he’d ever taken on before...and hell if Keith was going to let it get anywhere near the humans. They wouldn’t stand a chance, the pathetic things. It snapped his jaws at Keith and he thought he’d escaped most of it. While the fight happened, he felt nothing but pure adrenaline. It wasn’t until after there was nothing left of the shark that he felt the pain surge through him.

He doesn’t know how he made it back. Tried calling to Shiro but, of course, his voice wouldn’t come. It wasn’t until he was clambering his way over the sandbar into the bay that he felt he might actually make it. Though his vision was blurring a little, he heard clicking noises and chattering in Aquan around him. He was shocked to find the Dolphinians from earlier grabbing at his arms when he started to sink. They helped pull him over to his platform . They even told him to wait there while they got more help.

When Shiro arrived he signed with shaky hands. Words like ‘shark’, ‘humans’, ‘not safe’, ‘scared’ and ‘hurt’. Though he didn’t really need to sign that he hurt, it was obvious from his whimpers of agony. The worst part about not being able to speak is not being able to curse when things hurt. He’s limited to grunts of pain and slamming his fist onto the float while crying.

He’s glad the worst of it is over though and he lays down on the wet sand. He digs his hands into the beach and squeezes granules through his fists to combat the throbbing pain in his back. Maybe he’ll sleep here tonight, he thinks closing his eyes. A little further down into the water obviously so the cool water can soothe his aches but...yeah, the beach sounds great tonight. He can listen to the wind in the trees and the waves--

His eyes flutter open when he hears splashing nearby. Lance’s long legs cutting through the water as he trudges up the beach. He’s soaking wet but decidedly not shark food.

It does make Keith feel better to know that La--er, all the humans--are safe.

He thinks Lance is heading to his pile of stuff, but he wades through the shallows towards Keith. Instinctively, his dorsal fin raises and quills point up. He’s not trying to do that, but it’s a defensive reaction made all the more active in his injured state. A way to scare other predators. It says ‘I’m big and I’m dangerous and if you want to force a fight you will lose’.

Lance takes note and slows his approach, hands up to show he means no harm.

“Calm down,” Lance says, his tone soothing and non-threatening. “I just wanted to check if you were hungry before I turn in.”

It takes effort, but Keith lowers the fin and stares at him without answer.

“Man, I really need to learn more Aquan,” Lance shakes his head, trying to think. Pantomiming helped in the past. “Hungry?” he asks, tapping his mouth then pointing to Keith.

Must have chosen the wrong gesture because Keith flushes red and shakes his head vigorously with a glare. He’s practically fuming as he vents air through his gills in huffs of anger and it makes Lance quirk a brow in confusion. What kind of reaction is that? He just tapped his--Oh--!

“Oh shit, I just did whatever the sign is for ‘kiss’, didn’t I?” Lance smacks his face in embarrassment.

No wonder he looks pissed. After Lance went through all that trouble to turn him down gently. He goes and signs ‘hey you wanna kiss?’ as if it had never happened. Not a great reminder.

“ _Sorry_ ,” he says in Aquan and puts up a finger for him to wait as he tries to figure it out. “Uh...oh. How about this?”

Lance makes a flat hand sway back and forth like a fish. Then he snatches it with his other hand and pretends to eat it. Keith just stares, his glare replaced with confusion. Guess Lance’s charades game isn’t particularly strong.

“God, this is so hard,” Lance mumbles. “How--”

Then a sound erupts. A deep grumble from...Keith’s stomach.

“Ah! That! That!” Lance points with renewed excitement. “Okay, you’re definitely hungry,” he nods and runs off, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll see what’s in my bag!”

Keith watches him as he runs down the beach to his shoulder bag. He rummages through it a bit, searching the contents for anything edible. There’s isn’t much. They ate most of the food they took to the beach with them. Oh, but there is an unopened bag of marlin jerky.

Merfolk can eat fish jerky, right?

Lance plops right down in the shallows with Keith and extends the bag. Keith doesn’t move initially but he leans forward to sniff. Kinda smells like fish...and Lance is offering it to him?

He’s never had human food before. Supposedly they cook most of their meals which doesn’t exactly appeal to Keith but...he’s willing to try it. Since he is kinda hungry after all.

With a frown, Keith reaches in for a piece. He turns it over in his claw to inspect it, giving it another sniff before licking it. Tastes alright. Salty but definitely fish. He pops into his mouth and finds himself intrigued by the taste.

Merfolk tend to eat a lot of raw fish. That’s not to say fish isn’t flavorful on its own. Tuna is fucking delicious with nothing added but this...it has flavors he’s never tasted before. Salt yes, but something more too. It’s actually really good.

Most merfolk swallow food whole, but this he’s inclined to chew so he can savor it. Keith even finds himself reaching for another before he’s finished with the first, making Lance laugh a little.

“Guess it gets the mer seal of approval,” Lance sighs and hands the bag over to Keith who sits up on his elbows and takes it.

Keith’s injury comes into view and Lance’s eyes lid somberly. So red and tender and the sight sends a shiver down Lance’s spine just imagining the pain involved. Guilt plants itself heavy in his gut at the thought that this could have been prevented. That this is somehow Lance’s fault.

They should have been paying better attention. Should have realized how far out into open water they went. If they had then maybe...maybe Keith wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Keith’s already an endangered species...today he almost became an extinct one.

Keith looks up from the bag of jerky he keeps shoveling into his mouth to see Lance staring at his back. At the stitched up wounds. He may be looking at Keith but he’s miles away. Adrift in his thoughts like a boat lost at sea.

He decides he doesn’t like that look on Lance’s face at all.

Keith raises his dorsal fin quickly, popping up like an umbrella. The sudden movement startles Lance out of his thoughts into recoiling back with surprise. Keith has to admit, he likes that look of bewilderment on his face. Much better than the look before it anyway. He chuckles to himself at the psych-out as he resumes eating the jerky.

“You dick,” Lance snorts and shakes his head at Keith’s attempt to scare him.

The dorsal is huge and beautiful. The individual spines a dark crimson like Keith’s scales with little stripes of deep purple. And the webbing between is a translucent white. Or maybe it’s pearl. Hard to tell but it fades from white to red to a deep burgundy that’s almost purple at the tips. That purple must come from his Galra side because there isn’t a single Koi species with purple colorations.

“Bet it’s great for turns,” Lance hums to himself as he looks it over. “For intimidation too. Reminds me of a lionfish. Wonder if you’re venomous like them?”

Lance reaches over to touch but remembers himself in time. He stops and pulls back, placing his hand back into his lap. Even if Keith isn’t venomous, it’s a bad idea to go touching merfolk without express permission. That’s how you lose fingers. Or worse.

Keith noticed though. It’s clear that Lance wants to touch. It’s what scientists do, right?

Shiro kinda explained it to him but he was only half listening. Something about these humans wanting to better understand the Aquan race. By measuring and studying, they learn things like how to improve the sanctuaries. And they learn how to treat illnesses and injuries that would kill most mer out in open water.

Important work that can only be done if mer are willing to cooperate with humans.

Lance treated his wounds. And even gave him this weird but tasty fish. Maybe...he should do him this small favor. It’s the least he can do.

Without warning, there’s a hand on Lance’s arm at the elbow. A mer hand with sharp sharp claws Lance realizes with wide eyes.

“Uhhh…” Lance says and swallows nervously as Keith’s never touched him like this before.

What’s Keith going to do? Without meaning to, Lance’s thoughts go to the worst conclusions drawn from every negative story ever told about the Galra. He could squeeze and dig his claws in. Pull and bite off his fingers. Drag him into the ocean and drown him.  This is why you don’t sit next to potentially dangerous--

Keith dips Lance’s hand into the shallow water then directs the wet fingers to the ridge of his dorsal spines. He takes care to avoid the sharp tips until Lance’s fingers graze the webbing between them. The ridges are bony but the webbing between feels elastic and flexible. It’s slick with a very thin coat of mucus to protect it, just like his scales.

It feels incredible.

“Wow,” Lance awes breathlessly, his face breaking into a smile.

Keith rolls his eyes with a snort. Humans, so easily impressed.

He lets go of Lance’s hand while it’s pressed to his fin and returns to his meal. Lance makes a noise in his throat again. That ‘uh’ sound that Keith is beginning to associate with nervousness. Lance’s eyes scan from his hand to the fin to Keith’s face, as if waiting for a sign. Keith raises a brow and gives him a dismissive shrug.

He doesn’t care if Lance keeps touching.

Lance’s uncertainty is immediately replaced with curious interest as he handles the fin. He’s mumbling things under his breath. The fact that Keith can’t understand the words doesn’t stop him from talking. Like he can’t help but voice his thoughts aloud.

“The tips don’t look hypodermic, just sharp. Probably not venomous then,” he hums. “The webbing is more indicative of canary rockfish...huh...are there nerve endings in there? How much control do you have over them?”

Keith shoots him an apathetic look.

“Right, you have no idea what I’m saying,” Lance grimace smiles. “Let’s see--”

He tests the flexibility of the fin by tentatively pressing it side to side and Keith moves them back into place with very little effort.

“So a decent amount of control,” Lance nods, hand to his chin thoughtfully. “And as for nerve endings--”

Lance brushes his fingers down the webbing along the spines and Keith shudders in response like it tickled.

“Amazing,” Lance beams. “Actually, chances are your whole body is a sensory organ. Makes hunting in the dark easier if you can feel vibrations in the water so nothing can sneak up on you and with your bad eyesight that’s gotta be extra good--”

Keith takes in a deep breath and makes another face. It’s not annoyed or displeased per se, just disinterested. Another reminder that he can’t understand anything Lance is saying and that he probably shouldn’t be looking for any kind of response from Keith.

“ _Sorry,_ ” Lance tells him in Aquan with a sheepish smile. “This is just...too cool,” he adds, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Oh no. He...he looks so happy.

Suppose he could just let Lance have his fun. It’s not like he’s hurting anything.

Keith dismissively waves a hand over his shoulder as if to say he doesn’t care and lays flat on his stomach, head down on his arms and face turned away from Lance. Lance stifles an excited noise as he continues to run his hand over his fin, inspecting it and taking notes in his head. Counting the spines, guesstimating their lengths, theorizing what evolutionary steps must have occurred to create this look.

Keith tries not to pay too much attention to the fingers pressing on his fin but it’s difficult not to. Lance dips his hands into the water every so often to keep his fingers wet so he doesn’t remove that thin protective coating. How considerate. He keeps his soft fingers away from the sharpest points and takes care to gently direct the fin into moving while humming pensively.

He’s not sure why but...Keith feels his own cheeks warm a little as Lance grazes over near the base of his dorsal fin along his spine. It feels...nice. Gentle. The only person who’s given him any kind of comforting touch in the last ten years has been Shiro and it doesn’t feel like this.

“Must have extensive musculature to open and close it so quickly,” Lance concludes and probes the very base of the dorsal. “Oh! I never thought about it but you raise it when you sunbathe, probably to regulate heat. Man, I wish I had my notebook. This is great!”

In his revelry, Lance bumps one of the shark bites and Keith tenses up with a hiss.

“ _Sorry! Sorry!_ ” Lance immediately apologizes.

Keith doesn’t strike out like instinct tells him to. Instead, he sits up and squeezes fistfuls of sand while trying to take a calming breath. It was an accident, he knows, but damn if it didn’t hurt like hell. Feels like scorching heat burning his back. He’s biting back distressed noises knowing he’s going to have to ride out the pain until it subsides.

But then cool water drips over him. Lance is scooping water from the shallows and pouring it onto his back with an apologetic look. It’s not much but the sensation does help abate the heat. When Keith looks over at him Lance gives him a forced smile, guilt-laden look on his face.

“Got a little overzealous,” Lance says softly. “ _Sorry, Keith_.”

Keith nods. He knows Lance didn’t mean to. Keith raises a hand, telling him that’s enough and Lance stops scooping water.

“ _Thank you,_ ” Lance says, pointing to his fin. “That was...really cool of you.”

Keith nods his understanding and waves him away. He’s ready to be left alone. He’s tired and he’s done with any more interaction for the day. It’s all the more obvious when he scoots a little further into the shallows and away from Lance.

“I’ll let you rest,” Lance says as he stands. “Night.”

Lance picks up the empty bag of jerky and stuffs it in his bag before shouldering it. Slips on his shoes and takes off up the tree ridge to follow the trail back to the checkpoint. He glances back before losing sight of the beach and watches as Keith carefully lays down to ready himself for sleep. His face under the surface to breathe easy the water of the bay.

Hopefully tomorrow Keith will be feeling better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! A lovely reader made fanart! [ Lance measuring Merman Keith's dorsal spines! So CUTE!](https://www.instagram.com/p/Byjg0hQlTL_/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet)
> 
> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, Edhelwen and AndrewRose. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*

###  **“The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms,  
** **it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too.”**

_\--Vincent van Gogh_

 

Lance’s nostrils fill with the overpowering scent of fish this morning. He’s perusing the market, scanning the different stalls and the prices for the fish in them. He lingers around the blue line snappers, freshly caught just an hour or so ago. They’re fairly inexpensive as far as fish go and about a pound each.

If Keith eats thirty pounds of fish a day… ten should be good for breakfast. Then he can come back around lunch and get a few more, with some tropical fruits. And then again at sunset. He has the fishmonger fill up his bucket with ten pounds of fish.

“Making something special, Malihini?” he asks. “That’s a lot of fish for one boy.”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, it’s--” Lance pauses and gauges what the reaction will be from this guy.

He looks like a local based on his appearance and accent. The native Hawaiians tend to have a deep-rooted respect for the islands, surrounding oceans, and all the wildlife living there.  Most are positive towards the merfolk and in support of their protection because they see them as guardian creatures of the ocean.

That said… one can’t know who will take advantage of the information stating there are injured mer in the bay. It’s hard to know who might poach them, especially a rare creature like Keith.

“It’s for a sick spinner dolphin that came in with the merfolk migration,” Lance says.

“Oh right, you’re one of the student scientists,” he nods, remembering Lance now. Worry then strikes his face. “It’s ill?”

“Yeah,” Lance nods, continuing with his lie. “And he’s on his own. Abandoned by his pod.”

“Pehea weliweli,” the man frowns and touches the charm on his necklace. A bird, looks like a sandpiper. “Here,” he says and tosses a few extra prawns on top, no charge. “Hope the little guy feels better soon.”

“Thanks,” Lance beams and pays him. “I’ll be back around lunch for more,” he promises before putting the bucket on his handlebars and taking off down the street on his bike.

Still pretty early. The sun’s only been up for maybe half an hour but the entire Holt abode was walking out the door when Lance was. Means everyone is already at the sanctuary doing their respective research. Matt’s inside with his father and scientists. Hunk and Pidge are on the northern shore taking videos of the Alteans.

Once he gets there, he takes Keith’s breakfast in hand and runs down the trails. With all the fish in his bucket, he feels like a feeder at Seaworld. Except instead of dolphins or sea lions, he’s feeding an extremely rare merman. He giggles with excitement knowing he’s one of maybe three hundred people in the world who’s able to get this close to merfolk without getting arrested. The privilege still makes him giddy.

When he gets down to the beach he finds Keith is still there in the shallows. He hasn’t moved at all since he last saw him. Not exactly reassuring.

Upon closer inspection, he finds Keith breathing, his gills pulsing out the filtered water he pulls in through his open mouth. He’s got his eyes closed with his face cradled in his crossed arms. Could be awake and just be resting but it's hard to tell. His tail is moving, but there’s no way of knowing if that’s something that occurs naturally as he sleeps.

How does one wake up a merman? One with sharp teeth and claws. Who’s recently been injured and might even be a little on edge. Maybe give him a little poke with a stick? Seems rude but...

Lance grabs a narrow piece of driftwood and leans forward to tap Keith’s hand.

A good plan. An excellent plan.

Despite his injury, Keith’s reaction time is as quick as always. His dorsal fin pops up instantly and lightning fast he swipes out at what touched him with a feral hiss. Lance lets out a squeak of fear as the claws slice the stick into pieces. Lance drops his remaining piece and takes a shaky step back.

Keith’s eyes scan his surroundings rapidly before remembering that he slept on the beach. Then he recognizes Lance before his eyes fall on the bucket in his hand. Right. Lance came to bring him food. He’d completely forgotten.

“To think...that could have been my hand,” Lance laughs nervously before swallowing. “That’s not...terrifying at all,” he adds with a weak chuckle.

Lance’s eyes are still a little wide. Keith frightened him and not just in the prank sense. He may have laughed, but behind that sound was a tremble. Genuinely scared for a split second.

Keith frowns with a smidgeon of guilt and gestures out a sign Lance recognizes from that day they went surfing. An apology. Lance’s body relaxes after that and he shows him the bucket with a shake.

“Breakfast. But first--” Lance pulls his little laminated cheat card and eyes it with a pout. “ _Good borning, snerp well_?”

What...the fuck...was that?

Keith can’t help the snort that comes out of him at that horrid pronunciation. He covers his mouth and continues laughing behind his hand. He knows what Lance is trying to say but...it’s just so bad. How can he not laugh at him?

“Wrong, right? Ugh, I told Hunk phonetically writing this out would be better but noooo--” Lance frowns and reads over it again. “--he had to go with the Hawaiian alphabet and accents. Like I know what those are,” he grumbles.

Looks like Lance is going to try again and Keith braces himself for another failure.

“Maybe it’s... _Zood morning, sleep fell_?” Lance tries again raising his brow with hope.

Keith grimaces, a pitying look on his face. Again he knows what he’s attempting but...yeesh.

“Not better, right? This is ridiculous,” he sighs and pulls the walky off his belt. “Hunk, how the fuck do you pronounce ‘good morning’? I’m dying out here, over.”

A moment later the walky beeps and Hunk answers.

“In which dialect? Over.”

“I literally don’t care as long as it’s understandable,” Lance answers. “Over.”

 _“Good morning._ Over.”

Lance looks to Keith who nods to show that’s right.

“Thank you, Hunk. Over and out,” Lance tells him and looks to Keith. “ _Good morning._ Eat up.”

Lance drops the bucket next to Keith and takes a seat on the sand further up to keep dry. That and to give Keith some space while he eats. He pulls out his sketching utensils and opens his notebook to write down his observations.

Keith reaches into the bucket and takes out the first snapper. Good size for swallowing whole so he does so. One at a time he grabs a fish and slides it down his gullet without even considering chewing. Lance stares open-mouthed and fascinated before writing down what he sees.

The jaw doesn’t unhinge, it just opens ridiculously wide. Wonder if it could unhinge though? His sketches focus heavily on Keith’s jaw structure and his teeth for a while but then his eyes catch on his back again.

Keith finishes eating fairly quickly. The last things in the bucket are prawns and he has to pick them apart. He’s not fond of shelled fish. Feels weird going down his throat. Too scratchy with all those legs and antennae so he has to peel them off before popping them into his mouth.

When done he licks his fingers before peering into the empty bucket with disappointment. All gone. Shame. It was some damn good fish and it would have taken him all morning to get that much on his own. It’s kinda nice taking a break for once.

He looks over his shoulder to spot Lance sitting there and sketching him again. Slowly he climbs his way up the bank, his neck craning a little with curiosity at what Lance is writing. Lance notices with a smile. He puts his pencil down and turns the book around for Keith.

His dorsal fin with several lines leading to words off to the side. Anatomical notes. There are also expertly rendered drawings of his gashes and stitches. Keith can’t see his own back and the sight of it makes him cringe.

Is that really how bad it looks? It hurts but...he had no idea how extensive it was. He’s been bitten by a shark before, on his tail a few times. It hurt then too but the damage never looked that bad. Just removed a couple of scales that sometimes came back darker when they grew back.

These raking marks hurt worse than any he’s had before but he chalked it up to being on skin instead of scale, not the fact that these injuries were literally twice the size of any wound he’d gotten before. Because he was in so much pain, it felt like the doctoring took forever but there are literally three more long tears in his flesh than he thought there were. No wonder it took Holt so long to stitch him up.

Now Lance is looking over his cheat sheet and biting his lip as he reads.

“Okay, time to fuck it up again,” he announces and clears his throat. “ _Can I...measure...your tail?_ ”

Keith blinks with shock. He got it right. The pronunciation still sounds like a child said it but the words are correct. Wait...measure his tail? He furrows his brow at the question and gestures something out. Taps his head and brings down his hand palm up.

“He wants to know why,” calls a voice from deeper in the bay.

They both look up to spot Shiro swimming closer.

“Or more accurately he said ‘for what’” Shiro elaborates once he gets closer. “But ‘why’ is close enough.”

“Okay so this--” Lance copies the gesture. “--means ‘for what’ or ‘why’.”

Lance looks down at his sheet with a pursed frown. It doesn’t have any words for explaining why. It’s all very basic. Thank you, please, and all that. Yes, no, maybe and a lot of questions that can be answered with such. He shuffles through his cards, scanning for a keyword or two that might help.

“ _It’s for his studies, Keith_ ,” Shiro says softly to him.

Keith shakes his head and repeats the gesture then points to himself. He meant--why me? Keith then throws his hands out to the rest of the bay, pointing with his entire hand at the other folk.

There are others. Dozens of others. Why not them?

“ _He believes you’re special. Unique. Different_ ,” Shiro lists.

Keith frowns at that, not particularly moved by this declaration. He taps his chest and then his wrist flicks out a cutting motion over his neck. Because he can’t talk, right? Shiro frowns at him but before he can object Keith adds more.

Another quick movement with both his hands to refer to all of himself followed by a sign used to represent Koi. He cuts the symbol with his open hand. Then he signs out Galra before cutting it too. Last he adds a gesture Shiro doesn’t particularly like Keith using at all.

Not Koi. Not Galra. Just a freak.

“ _Look at him, Keith. Does it look like he sees you as a freak?_ ” Shiro says, waving a hand at Lance.

Keith looks to find Lance scratching the back of his head as he flips through other cheat sheets Hunk made him, not giving up on finding useful words. The notebook in his lap has fallen to the side into the sand. It’s open on a drawing of Keith in full color.

Such attention to detail and care taken to get all his features right. Nothing exaggerated. Even ones showing him smiling with his mouthful of dangerous teeth. Makes Keith look friendly instead of frightening.

The Dolphinians may have invited him to surf, but it was at Lance’s insistence. Lance wanted him there. When he got hurt, Lance wasn’t afraid to touch him when they patched him up. Didn’t flinch each time he hissed and scratched the boards. He even scooped water onto his itching scales while they waited for the doctor to return.

And yesterday as he touched his dorsal fin...Lance’s eyes lit up with such wonder and excitement. A beaming smile on his face like a child who’d caught their first meal without help. Not repulsed at all by his spines or teeth or bad attitude.

No...Lance doesn’t think he’s some kind of grotesque curiosity. Lance thinks he’s…

A perfect meld.

With an indignant huff and a roll of his eyes he relents. Keith lays on his side, elbow propping him up and a hand waving at the air before resting it on his hip.

“What does that mean?” Lance questions, his hands full of cheat sheet notecards.

“That’s his ‘I don’t care’ wave,” Shiro chuckles as he turns to return to the bay. Feels like his work here is done anyway. “He uses it a lot,” he adds over his shoulder and then dives.

“Really?” Lance’s eyes go wide and a smile creeps back in. “Yes!” he cheers while pumping his fists and dropping all his sheets.

Lance gets out his tape measure and dips it into the water before beginning.

He measures everything. Length, width, and height of every aspect of his fluke including his fanning fin. He even counts and measures each individual spike on his lateral lines. And every single number goes into his notebook as he goes.

Lance makes attempts--horrible attempts--at Aquan conversation each time he asks for something. It’s bad, biblically so from the way Keith snorts and shakes his head. Makes Lance pout and frown but that doesn’t stop him from trying. Luckily, Keith can sort of gather what he’s asking for each time even it feels like talking to a toddler.

When done with the fin Lance sketches out his arm. Counts and measures his forearm spines. He gets the ears next and the dorsal fin after that, chattering away in several languages the whole time. There’s the Aquan that Keith barely understands and two others that he definitely can’t. English and something else entirely. Lance is so damn excited he hasn’t stopped talking since he started.

Lance doesn’t ask for anything that might be too much. Like looking at his teeth or shining a light in his eyes to gauge responses. And he definitely doesn’t ask for a blood sample. All those things seem something to work up to. Besides, he can tell Keith’s starting to lose his patience with all this touching so after an hour of detailed measurements, he stops.

Lance then takes a seat and starts writing in a lined notebook.

Keith in the meantime slinks back into the water to soak for a bit. Being on the beach and dry for extended periods doesn’t agree with him. From there, he watches as Lance buries his toes into the sand and writes, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he flips to the next page.

After a good soaking, Keith climbs back up the beach to take a look at the pages. It’s not like he can do much swimming today anyway. He frowns when he finds the pages are all words and no drawings. Lets out a disappointed huff and plops down on his elbows with his face in hands.

“Yeah, you’re bored,” Lance says but his eyes never leave the page. His hand absently reaches for his bag and when he gets it he tosses it to Keith. “Here. Knock yourself out.”

The merman’s eyes light up and he unceremoniously dumps out the contents of the bag. A bunch of things fall out. Coins. Pens. A weird smelling plastic bottle. The measuring tape. A little flashlight. But none of those catch his attention like the books that tumble out.

All thin things with splashes of color on the covers. He opens one and finds it similar to the first one he read with the mermaid on the cover--which is also among them. No words in this one. In fact, none of them have words. They’re all just pictures. With a smirk, Keith dries his hands on Lance’s cloth bag and flips open the first one.

Enchanted forests. Damsels with hair that could reach across the bay. The little red-headed mermaid. A prince turned into a frog. All the stories are cute and magical. More than once he reads the mermaid one again. And more than once he still wrinkles his nose at the ending.

Lance darts his eyes over after a while to find Keith flipping through Princess and the Frog.  Lance knows most mer can’t read. He thought since Keith was so interested in his drawings he might like more children’s books. And from the small smile on his face, he’s clearly enjoying it. A good move. What a relief.

Lance’s watch beeps when it hits noon. Can’t believe it’s time for lunch already. He closes the books he’s working on and shoves them into the bag. Then he grabs the bucket and nods at Keith.

“ _Food_ ,” he says, pointing at the fish bucket and Keith gives him an acknowledging nod. “Be back soon. God, I hope you don’t get those books wet...they’re on loan from the library.”

Lance takes off up the ridge, leaving all his stuff behind in Keith’s care. A foolish thing really. He palms a pen and twirls it while he switches books.

The little mermaid book again. This will be the third time today that he’s looked through it.

He massages his throat at the scene of Ariel’s voice being stolen again. Then sighs with longing at the kiss between the prince and human woman. The kiss that would have made the mermaid human forever and given her back her voice.

That’s when he remembers the look on Lance’s face from when he asked to kiss him, just to see if it would work. Sudden discomfort at the request. Uncertainty and guilt in his eyes, and pain in his voice at having to tell him no.

Keith knows now that putting that kind of pressure on him was wrong. Lance isn’t obligated to indulge in his whims. It wasn’t fair to put him on the spot like that. Keith lays with his cheek in the book, still looking at Ariel’s transformation.

At least Ariel got legs for her trouble. Got to walk on land among the humans for a couple days. Keith didn’t get anything for losing his voice--unless becoming an orphan counts as getting something, he thinks bitterly.

Lance is back in record time with a fresh bucket of fish that he puts down next to Keith. He then takes his seat again and unwraps a muffin for lunch, munching on it as he immediately returns to his work.

Keith eats distractedly. Just reaches in without looking and shovels the fish one by one into his mouth. He does count as he eats though, expecting there to be the same amount as last time. There are even a few clam shells he pops open and slurps out the contents. But then his clawed hand falls onto the last item in the bucket.

A fish but it’s small. And a significantly different shape from the others. He pulls it out and the sight of it makes him sit up straight. Red and flashy.

He told Lance not to get him this but he can’t find the anger...instead he finds memories stirring.

When’s the last time he had Āweoweo? A couple of years at least. His mom used to catch them for him when he was sad. When he missed his dad. It always made him feel so...comforted. Cared for. Loved.

His chest aches at their memory. Their laughter as they splashed in the shallows of a nameless beach when he was a babe. Hide and seek in a kelp forest. Their comforting touch as they slept with their tails curled around each other.

His father’s voice. His mother’s kind smile. As he holds the fish in his lap, he sniffs and teardrops roll down his cheeks to drip onto its red scales.

He misses them...misses them so much.

Lance takes notice of his quiet tears and his brows furrow with worry.

“Aww geez, I thought you’d like a pick-me-up since you’re hurt but…” Lance says sympathetically. “I didn’t think it would make you cry. _I’m sorry, Keith_.”

Keith shakes his head and tries to force a smile. Lance has nothing to apologize for. It’s not his fault everything sucks and this gesture of kindness broke his wall for a second.

“Mm...Mmh…” Keith tries to utter out his thanks but he can’t choke out the rest. He swallows and tries again but it’s even worse, the syllables strangled with emotion now.

A warm hand presses to his shoulder and Keith looks over with sullen eyes. Lance pats gently with a reassuring smile and shakes his head. He doesn’t have to say anything. Lance reads him loud and clear.

Keith swallows the lump in his throat and nods. He tips his head back and swallows the fish before wiping his face of the tears. Keith clears his throat then gestures at Lance with accusing fingers and a grumpy frown. He’s clearly berating Lance for bringing him the Āweoweo and it makes Lance laugh.

“I know that face from my mom. ‘Lancito you never listen!’” Lance mocks and then sighs wistfully. “Anyway, here,” he says and tosses Keith two mangoes that he catches without trouble. “ _Eat._ ”

Keith bites into the mango, skin and all, while Lance looks over the injuries on his back.

Lance wonders; how fast does Keith heal places that aren’t scales? Most Koi grow back new scales in less than a week but he knows nothing of injuries on the flesh. He knows even less about the Galra’s healing capabilities.

“ _Can I rook at your,_ uh... _back?_ ” Lance asks and Keith waves his hand dismissively. The go ahead. “ _Lower your..._ uh _...dorsal._ ”

Keith does so and continues chewing into his fruit. Lance scoots in, face close to the injury. It looks significantly better than yesterday. The wound is less tender and it’s not as inflamed either. But the shredded flesh still makes Lance’s stomach turn.

If Keith hadn’t been there, that could have been his leg. It would have hurt like hell but he probably wouldn’t have died since most sharks take a bite of human and run off. Humans aren’t a tasty meal but merfolk on the other hand...they’re attacked all the time. Part of the reason the sanctuary is designed the way it is, to keep large predators and boats out via the sandbar.

“ _Can I?_ ” Lance asks, pointing to the bandages.

Keith nods and starts in on the second mango.

Lance presses fingers to the edges of the wounds to test the waterproof bandages. Still a little swollen but the adhesive feels secure. And the wounds aren’t giving off any heat or pus. No infection. What did he expect of Dr. Holt? He’s a professional. So Lance pulls back and gives him a thumbs up.

“Everything is good,” Lance says with a smile. “ _Healthy._ ”

At Lance’s comment, a sudden thought occurs to Keith.

Lance isn’t a doctor by any means, not like the human who stitched him up. But Lance does understand merfolk anatomy. It's clear in the way he draws Keith, breaking down all his attributes with extreme detail. He’s likely been studying mer for years. So he’s gotta know a lot about how their bodies work.

Maybe there’s a physical reason he can’t speak and Lance can find it? It's far more likely than magic anyway. So he sits up and gets Lance’s attention with a grunt.

“What’s up?” he blinks, his eyes honing in on Keith's hands.

Keith gestures to his throat but nothing’s clicking for Lance. The human just presses his lips into a thoughtful look as he tries to piece it together.

“ _Food_ ?” Lance wonders. “Are you **still** hungry?”

Keith shakes his head with a huff and tries again. He grabs Lance’s sketchbook and flips through. There, the page with his shark injuries. Points at them quickly before gesturing to his throat again, opening his mouth and showing his teeth.

“I don’t--something about your...mouth? Probably?” Lance mumbles, still uncertain.

Keith taps hard on the stitches in the picture, making sure Lance sees and then tapping his throat with an exaggerated pained look.

“Wound. Hurt. Oh. Oh!” Lance snaps with understanding.

He thinks Lance is getting it because he rummages through his things to find the flashlight.

Keith thinks his throat is damaged. Like a wound. Like his back. That it’s something that can be repaired in the same way. Lance is pretty sure that’s not going to be the case, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Lance wanted to do this sooner but he didn’t want to stress Keith out with too many requests. Once he finds the flashlight he gets close and up high on his knees while Keith stays seated. Then clicks on the light in his hand.

“Open?” Lance asks and opens his own mouth as an example. Keith opens his mouth so he can peer inside.

Razor sharp teeth behind his lips. Gleaming and porcelain white and sharp like a shark’s. A pink tongue like any human’s. Tonsils like a human’s too. Then he looks further towards the back of his throat. No signs of any damage or scar tissue, not that Lance expected to find any.

“I don’t see anything but...” he hums and tosses the flashlight onto his bag to free up his hands.

Lance gives Keith a questioning glance in regards to using his hands and the mer nods.  He wets his palms in the shallows and presses them to Keith’s surprisingly warm neck, taking care to avoid his gill slits. He’s trying to feel for where his lymph nodes are on the extremely rare chance that they’re swollen.

They aren’t.

The only thing left to check is...Lance puts his fingers against Keith’s voice box and looks down.

“Can you...uh...la la la?” Lance hints and hums a little to get his point across.

Keith gets the message and vocalizes without trouble at all.

“There are vibrations which means the chords aren’t damaged,” Lance mumbles to himself, the diagnosis looking more like the suspected. “Can you...la la la?” he asks again but with a volume increase.

Keith increases the volume and Lance frowns. No issues. Now for the hard part.

“ _Speak_ ,” Lance encourages.

He tries. Oh, how Keith tries.

“H...ha...l-la…” he chokes.

Under his fingers, he feels Keith’s throat lock up. Nothing but garbles as the muscles attempt at their contractions but fail. Lance notes that Keith’s entire body goes rigid in response to speaking, not just his throat. Fists tight. Dilated pupils like pinpricks. There’s slight panic in Keith’s eyes as he attempts different words but the result is the same.

Nothing comes out.

A triggered fear response. Just like Lance thought. Keith’s willing to try but his mind won’t release it’s hold. He gets scared without meaning to. Psychosomatic from trauma. The last time he spoke no one came to save him or his mom.

No one wanted to listen and she died because of it.

Keith's eyes dart frantically around and then his face melds into hopelessness before closing his eyes to stop trying altogether. Useless. He knew it was fucking useless. Why did he even--Keith grits his teeth with a pained groan before he jerks his head out of Lance’s hands.

“ _I’m sorry, Keith_ ,” Lance says softly. “I really am.”

Keith just shakes his head dismissively, as if he’s trying too hard to pretend like he doesn’t care. He wipes his face of the wet threatening to spill over his lids again with a huff and a grunt. Then he digs his claws into the sand and squeezes hard to get his composure back.

“I wish it was an easy fix but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you need it,” Lance tells him.

Keith just looks over at him with a frown, none of Lance’s words registering on his face.

“Right, you don’t--” Lance looks over his sheet hoping there’s something he can use. “ _Healthy. All good. Nothing wrong with you._ ”

The wrong words apparently.

Keith looks visibly disturbed. He glares with a snarl and points accusingly at Lance, jabbing at the air. Signing out the same word again and again. Lance doesn’t know the gesture but the look on Keith’s face makes the word clear enough.

Liar. He’s calling Lance a liar. Because he said nothing was wrong with him?

“ _Nothing wrong with you_ ,” Lance repeats firmly to confirm.

Keith huffs and physically has to clench his jaws to not spit a hiss at him. His hands dig back into the sand so he doesn’t use them to shove Lance. Frustration mounts as he tries to take deep calming breaths through his nose.

Maybe it's not that Lance is a liar, Keith thinks. He’s just...fucking stupid. Or ignorant. He thought Shiro said Lance was smart, so how doesn’t he understand?  

Keith’s already enough of an abomination with his mixed blood but on top of it all he can’t speak. Might never be able to speak again. He’s alone. And he will be forever. There’s so much wrong with him and to say there isn’t is just--

What will it take for Lance to get it?

Keith takes the biggest clamshell from the bucket and gestures to it, then himself. He then pointedly snaps the shell right down the middle, making the human flinch at the sound. Keith holds up the separate pieces as a visual aide, hoping it makes his point.

Broken. He’s just a broken mer. Irrevocably damaged inside and out. Unneeded and unwanted. Worthless. And there’s nothing anyone can do to fix it.

Lance just stares at the broken pieces without a response. He looks stunned and uncertain of what to say. Impatient, Keith rolls his eyes and tosses the pieces over his shoulder with an angry huff.

What’s the point? Lance won’t ever truly understand. He doesn’t know what it’s like in Keith’s world. How could he? He’s just a human.

Keith lets out a deep resigned sigh, like he’s too tired to deal with this, and then gives his back to Lance. It’s his go-to reaction to tell others he’s done. Lance, in turn, leans over and picks up the two pieces of the clam with a frown. He turns them over in his hands before looking over at Keith again.

“So...am I supposed to assume this is supposed to be you?” he asks but, of course, Keith’s ignoring him now. “In that case…”

Lance goes through his things, making all sorts of unnecessary noise to get Keith’s attention. It works. Keith glances over his shoulder to see what Lance could possibly be doing but the human is hunched over something in his lap. It revs up his curiosity despite his annoyance so he pulls himself closer to look.

The human is using the water in the weird smelling little plastic bottle. Dabbing it along the edge of the shell. He then presses them back together at the seams, blowing on the shell with pursed lips.

Stupid, Keith thinks. Water can’t put something back together again. And yet Keith watches with a serious inquisitive look.

Lance glances at Keith from the corner of his eye and smirks. Wait till he sees this. When he’s certain it’s dry he lets go of one side. Keith looks beyond confused.

Why isn’t it falling apart? How--

He’s amazed further when Lance digs up sand with it and dumps it out again. Still not broken. Lance then stands and scoops a bunch of water from the shallows. He returns and dumps it on top of Keith’s head, standing over him with a triumphant grin. Keith’s too shocked to be mad about it.

How did he do that? It shouldn’t be in one piece. Lance offers the shell to Keith who stretches out his claws to take it.

“Ah ah,” Lance says pulling it back just out of reach. “ _Nothing wrong with you_ ,” he says and waits expectantly for a response.

Keith frowns at him.

Does he want Keith to say _that_? Lance wouldn’t know if he signed out that Lance was a sea lion’s breakfast but...he does want to see the shell. To see what Lance did to it.  So Keith rolls his eyes with a petulant pout and signs it out.

He gestures the phrase half-heartedly but it seems to satisfy Lance enough. He smirks and hands Keith the shell before taking a seat with his things again.

Keith turns the shell in his hands with disbelief. It really is whole. Magic? A type of magic only humans can do? Looks different of course. And it still has a very noticeable crack in it but...it’s whole. Nothing’s wrong with it, even after what Keith did to damage it.

That thought brings a disbelieving smile to his face as his thumbs rub it. Not worthless. Still whole. Like him? Holding it out in front of him, he plops backward onto his back.

Immediate regret.

He’d forgotten about his gashes and pain surges out in pulses of agony. It’s not as bad as the day before but he does tense up. And instead of crying out in pain, he makes a groaning noise that sounds almost comical through his clenched teeth to show that its nothing serious.  He rolls over with a huff and smacks the sand several times with another pained groan.

“Yeah, probably shouldn’t do that,” Lance snorts. “You’re still hurt. Dumbass. Give me that,” he gestures for the shell and Keith hands it to him.

He takes the shell and scoops up water, pouring it over Keith’s back slowly. It’s soothing. After a couple of passovers all the sand that was sticking to his back is gone and the throbbing has stopped. Keith gives him a thumbs up to tell him it’s enough and Lance returns the shell to him so he can look at it more.

“Idiot,” Lance snickers.

“Lance!” a voice calls out from the water. The Dolphinian girl Kayleen and her little group of friends. “Surf with us!” she says with a bright smile as the others chitter and click with excitement.

“Sorry, can’t,” Lance says with a friendly smile. “Have to work.”

“Too much work!” one says.

“Play more!” says another.

“Yes! Play with us!” says the leader. “Look, Pigeon lent us a ball!”

They mean Pidge of course and it looks like they do have a ball. A beach ball they knock back and forth a little. They continue to beg with lots of pleases in both English and Aquan. Lance just shakes his head again and they pout out little frowns as he returns to his writing.

The Dolphinians come in a little closer but their attention is on Keith now. They click to get his attention and he turns to look at them with raised brows.

What the hell do they want? No one talks to him if they can help it.

“ _I’m so envious Red One_ ,” says the brunette with shells weaved into his locks. Markis.

“ _He’s so sweet on you_ ,” Kayleen clicks as her eyes dart to Lance. He’s not paying attention, his nose buried in his notebook. “ _Teach us the spell you cast on him?_ ” she jokes and the others giggle and click out laughter.

Merfolk can’t cast spells, that’s a myth. Or if they ever did, it’s been millennia since they lost that ability. The closest to spells anyone gets to nowadays is the singing Koi and even that isn’t magic. Who doesn’t approach a singing mermaid? If not out of curiosity then from attraction to beauty?

But that’s all beside the point. Keith’s not sure he appreciates the implication that he’s ensorcelled Lance. That he somehow stole Lance’s free will. Even if it were possible, why would he ever?

“ _A shame he’s human_ ,” says Markis.

“ _A damned shame_ ,” agrees the girl with her scarred lip. Lorna.

“ _Yes_ ,” Kayleen nods and flutters her lashes in Lance’s direction again. “ _I know who I’d be presenting myself to._ ”

The others gasp and giggle as Keith gapes with disbelief at her words. Did she really just...hint that if Lance were a mer she’d proposition him? Keith looks over at Lance who is oblivious to the conversation happening around him. He just continues to write, his toes wiggling and digging into the sand.

Kayleen giggles and twirls a strand of blonde hair in her fingers.

“ _Handsome_ ,” she says with a sigh. “ _Too bad really_ . _What a waste that he has those ugly legs._ ”

“ _I’d wager he’s popular with the other landwalkers_ ,” says Lorna and Markis nods in agreement.

“ _Or maybe he’s already spoken for?_ ” Kayleen starts, her voice teasing. “ _By a certain red Galra?_ ” she adds with a taunting grin.

Keith’s face flushes at the insinuation and he immediately sends a rude gesture their way as his ridges hackle up. He makes a movement towards them hissing and growling to which they squeal and laugh as they retreat to the deeper waters. They don’t come back.

Keith turns and falls forward into the sand, burying his face in his arms, cheeks as red as his scales.

They’re just being puckish, playful things. Trying to tease and get under his skin. That’s what Dolphinians like to do. They don’t mean any real harm by it but it’s still embarrassing to hear.

Propositioning a human? That’s...ridiculous. Like Keith would ever.

Lance is just some human. A handsome human to be sure, despite his weird legs and scaleless body. And yeah, Keith likes spending time with him. He’s...fun. Interesting. But that hardly means anything substantial as he could say the same thing about Shiro.

It definitely doesn’t mean Keith would present himself to Lance. It certainly doesn’t mean Lance would pledge himself to Keith. That kind of behavior is saved for courting mer not-- They’re just friends! Friends!

Absolutely ridiculous.

Lance is trying to mind his own business but clearly something was said that ticked Keith off. Keith doesn’t realize it but he’s been making little annoyed grumbles ever since he hissed at the others. And he’d have to be dense to think Lance didn’t hear or notice that little outburst.  Gathering from the Dolphinians’ tone though...it seemed playful not mean.

What did they say to him?

“ _How are you feeling?_ ” Lance asks as it’s the closest thing to ‘are you okay?’ on his cheat sheet.

Keith’s eyes barely dart to the side before he answers with a thumbs up. He’s fine.

“ _Good_ ,” Lance smiles and god if it suddenly doesn’t look brighter than before.

Damn those Dolphinians, getting in his head like this. Keith snatches a children’s book from the sand, opens it and puts it over his head to cover his face. To hide from Lance and that blinding smile that makes him feel...something. Content. Happy. A first for him in a long time.

Lance snorts out a little laugh and Keith peeks from under the book with a frown. He’s greeted with a soft smile.

“That’s totally not what they’re for but...to each their own, Ariel,” Lance snickers, shaking his head before returning to his work with a happy hum that definitely isn’t making Keith’s heart thrum at all.

No, that would be...absolutely ridiculous.

Lance leaves yet again and brings the bucket back for dinner, dinner that Shiro joins them for. It's another several snapper, shrimp, and a few papayas. A well-balanced meal, even though Keith would prefer just the fish. Too much sweetness makes him jittery so he tells Shiro to tell him that. Lance nods in understanding and promises to lighten up on the sugary stuff.

After Keith clears the bucket, Lance readies his things to head back. He doesn’t stay for more sketching or writing. It’s getting dark. Besides, he’s got lots of data he needs to go through.

With all his notes and theories and such, the only time the merfolk will see him the next couple of days is when he brings Keith food. So he says his goodbyes to Shiro and Keith. Then he makes his way up the trail to hit the tent before he goes home. Shiro turns to Keith who’s watching the human leave with intense focus.

“ _You alright, Keith_?” Shiro asks, his tone concerned.

Keith nods, a neutral look still on his face. He digs into the beach for his repaired shell and turns it over in his hand. Then trails his claw down the crack gently before wondering...if it counts as a gift?

The thought makes his chest feels a little strange and he buries it back into the sand for safe keeping. After that, he sits up and gestures to Shiro.

He’s weird, Keith tells him. Lance.

“ _Humans are a little weird in general, Keith_ ,” Shiro chuckles, his shoulders relaxing. “ _You’ll have to be more specific than that._ ”

Keith’s been nothing but rude to him from the get-go. Scared him shitless. Stole his belongings. Nearly capsized his boat. Spat in his face. Called him a number of obscenities. And tripped him up in the shallows out of spite. Even shoved him in anger.

And yet...

He extended his friendship to Keith anyway. Brings him books to look at. Checks his wounds even though they’ve already been treated. Talks to Keith like they’ve known each other for years, like they’re not from completely different worlds.

“ _I don’t see what the problem is_ ,” Shiro says, quirking a brow.

Keith signs out quickly with an annoyed huff.

Lance is acting like...they didn’t just meet a week ago. The memory of Lance giving him the Āweoweo and the repaired shell come to mind but he doesn’t mention those specifically. Just says that Lance tries to give him things without his asking and that it feels, for lack of a better word, weird.

At that Shiro snorts out a little laughter.

“ _Oh. Right. I keep forgetting this is your first real interaction with humans_ ,” Shiro shakes his head. “ _The younger Koi say things like this too. Guess I should remind Holt and his scientists how off-putting it is to get purposeless gifts. Feels like he’s trying to court you, right?_ ”

Yes! That’s it!

Keith smacks a hand down into his and signs with vigor. That’s what it feels like and it’s fucking weird! Even if Lance were a mer it would be strange as hell. That’s not something one does unless they’ve known each other for years. Even Keith, young as he is, knows that. But it’s made even weirder because Lance is human.

He’s glad that Shiro sees it too and it’s not just Keith thinking it’s odd.

“ _They don’t know any better_ ,” Shiro says softly. “ _Matt was just as bad when I first met him. He wore a thing on his wrist. Helps him keep track of time. It was pretty and I happened to look at it too long._ ”

Shiro tilts his head back with a short laugh.

“ _He took it off right then and tried to give it to me_ ,” Shiro tells him with a bit of a flush to his cheeks. “ _Said I could have it if I wanted it._ ”

Did Shiro take it, Keith asks. And Shiro shakes his head no, of course not. But he did explain to Matt why it made him feel uncomfortable and why he should be a little more careful in the future to avoid awkwardness.

Giving gifts, jewelry especially, is for those seeking mates or for those already bonded. Since then, Matt tries to stick to gifts of goodwill like food or medical treatment for the mer in the bay. Or toys that the mer can share among themselves, like the beach ball. Nothing that could be misconstrued as romantic in nature and it’s helped relations greatly.

“ _All the humans are like that, I’m afraid,_ ” Shiro tells him. “ _These ones especially. If it gets too bothersome though, let me know. I’ll tell Lance to let up.  Otherwise, just treat his offerings as a kindness. It would be...foolish to treat it as something more.”_

Foolish? Keith doesn’t understand.

“ _The scientists, they’re so…compassionate,_ ” Shiro says, his eyes on the beach where Sam and Matt are standing. “ _They care deeply for our well-being and safety as if we were one of their own family._ ”

Holt and his son are chatting away with several Dolphinians in the shallows. They’re laughing as four mer children splash water at them, soaking their khakis. Matt tosses his clipboard to his father and dives in, clothes and all, to wrestle with the kids. They squeal and giggle as the parents laugh, encouraging them to pile on him.

One of the children begs for Matt to lift him up and throw him into the bay. With approval from the mother, Matt scoops up the small child and whirls into a circle before tossing him into the water. He lands with a big splash and there’s a round of applause from everyone. Far better than Matt’s throws last year. And now more children want to be thrown too.

Is that bad, Keith asks. Shiro gestures back to him to repeat the question with more clarity so he does the signs again.

Is it bad...that these scientists treat them like family? That seems like it would be a good thing since that means they’ll do more to protect the pods. But the way Shiro spoke before made it sound like it was a bad thing.

So he wants to know, is it bad to be good friends with the humans?

“ _No, it’s not bad to be friends,”_ Shiro answers with a downturned shake of his head. _“Provided it doesn’t go too far.”_

Keith still doesn’t understand. What does he mean by that? Too far?

More than a few mer looked too deeply into the actions of humans and it always ends...poorly for all involved. Before he can add much more Shiro’s face goes somber, his eyes lidded and dark with serious contemplation. Keith has to pat him with this tail to get his attention, making Shiro blink awake from his thoughts.

“ _Sorry Keith, the current took me somewhere_ ,” he says with half a smile. “ _Guess I’m tired. It’s late. You must be tired too._ ”

Keith shrugs but then nods in agreement and starts to lay down on his stomach in the shallows. Shiro would invite him to sleep with the others but Keith’s made it no secret that he doesn’t like being among them so he’s stopped asking. Shiro merely ruffles his head of hair and slips into the bay to ready himself for sleep. Once he goes, Keith looks up at the treeline once more.

The tent is still there, lit up with several battery-operated lamps. Lance’s shadowed form walks back and forth inside. He grabs a few things off the tables set up in there, but drops them and scatters papers everywhere. Keith can almost hear that caught off-guard noise from here. Lance kneels and gathers it all up in his arms, shoving it all haphazardly into his bag before exiting. He gives the other humans a wave and heads out for the night.

Shiro said Lance was just being nice. That that’s just how humans are. Generous and kind. That he shouldn’t misconstrue it as something more. Keith snorts dismissively at the thought. Like Keith ever would.

Like he’d ever treat Lance’s offerings of friendship as something romantic. It’s just fish. It’s just a couple of picture books. It’s just kind words of encouragement. Things Lance would do for any of his human friends but...it's more than anyone else has ever done for Keith, human or mer.

For now, Keith doesn’t see the harm in it. He won’t tell Lance to dial it back because, in all honesty, he finds he likes the attention. With a soft look, he takes the repaired clam shell in hand and holds it as he drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, Edhelwen and AndrewRose. Please forgive my love of double dashes and my lack of understanding comma use. You're all amazing and I love you *smooch*

**“We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep.”** _  
_ _\--William James_

 

Breakfast for Keith is a couple of snapper and a single squid. Lunch is an entire bucket full of prawns. Dinner is several more snapper with a couple of tasty clams. Lance likes keeping it varied, and admittedly he goes for the stuff that’s a little on sale either because of its size or because it’s less than pristine. Keith doesn’t seem to mind as he eats it all without complaint. 

Keith told him only three days, but on the fourth day Lance still brings him something to eat, though not as much. Shiro explains Lance’s logic via translation. It gives Keith a chance to get back out to the ocean to do some hunting but alleviates the pressure of having to overextend himself. That way, he can work his way back up to fully feeding himself again. 

He supposes that makes sense, so he doesn’t give Lance too much guff for it. Just eats the market fish and does some light swimming in the bay, digging in the sand for small crabs and such to snack on.

Lance doesn’t bother him too much after the seventh day. His attentions are stolen in the form of doing work for the facility. He assists in several checkups with the other humans on the Dolphinians and Koi that will allow it, to gather more data for their files. Shiro, of course, is among them.

Lance is popular with the mer, even the ever-cautious Koi. He tries talking to them in his butchered Aquan and gets a number of strange looks initially. The Dolphinians laugh and laugh. They ask him to repeat himself and when he does it the same they laugh some more, clutching their guts as they roll in the shallows. But they eventually correct him so he can get it right for next time.

While Lance works, Keith stays in the shallows to rest. He’s found in the past that staying in the sun heals his injuries quicker, so that’s what he does. Plus, he’ll need another two weeks of calm swimming before he’s at full strength again. While Lance does spend a great deal of time helping the other humans with their endeavors, he never neglects to come down to the beach to check on Keith.

He inquires about his back, asks to check the injuries, and takes notes on the rate at which Keith is healing. But after that’s all said and done, Lance always dips his hand into his bag and tosses Keith a new children’s book to browse to alleviate his boredom for the rest of the day. Keith takes care not to damage them or get them wet. At the end of the day, Lance picks them back up before returning home.

Sometimes, once Lance is finished with all his work, he comes by with a bag of that jerky. Doesn’t matter if Keith is there or not. He plops down into the sand and chews on it while looking at the ocean. It’s the only time he doesn’t seem to talk. He just watches the sun disappear into the horizon, his thoughts far away. 

Keith doesn’t care for the look in his eyes when he does this. Somber and serious doesn’t suit the ever smiling human, but he’s not certain there’s anything he can do about it. So he does what he prefers others to do with him; he gives Lance his space to be alone with his thoughts.

*****

Two weeks. It’s officially been two weeks since the shark attack and Keith’s feeling much better.  Less aching pain and the stiffness in his movements has lessened too. The skin on his back almost doesn’t itch anymore either. Lance has even peeled the excess bandages off for him since he can’t seem to reach them himself and he doesn’t want to go scraping his back on coral to get it off. Might aggravate things or pull his stitches.

He’s back to hunting on his own, but very slowly at Holt’s suggestion. Lance brings him one last meal for breakfast. Just three snapper and a single red Aweoweo. Keith smacks him with his wet fin like he would if Shiro had brought it but doesn’t say no to the food. 

Keith gets so used to Lance coming to see him that when he doesn’t show up at the beach for several days it's disconcerting. Where does Lance go when he isn’t here? He doesn’t ask, but Shiro explains that sometimes the humans have to work in the building on land. Work with papers and equipment and computers and aquariums. It’s all very complicated, and even Shiro doesn’t fully understand it. 

Keith just shrugs dismissively and reminds Shiro that he didn’t ask. It’s not like he misses seeing his friend or anything. That makes Shiro snort, but he doesn’t argue with Keith about it.

When Lance finally does come back several days later, he looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept. Keith sees him helping the others with their work, and he spends a lot of time in the popped up tent in the treeline just writing, writing, writing. He comes by to check on Keith’s injuries with a tired smile and takes a few notes before leaving again.

Keith’s learned his routine enough to know when Lance has the day off. And he most certainly needs it. 

Usually, Lance goes surfing with the others, but today, late in the afternoon, he shows up at the sanctuary. He strings a hammock across two trees nearest the lapping water and climbs into it to play on his phone. That lasts a whole five minutes before he sighs, bored with it. He then kicks back to try relaxing, drinking from a water bottle.

He just looks so down. Sad for some reason and that worries Keith a little. Melancholy can be fatal for merfolk, especially if they’re bonded. If a mer gets sad enough, it’ll just beach itself somewhere and… die. 

Keith wonders… does that happen with humans too? Is Lance bonded to someone and parted from them? What’s the cause of that look on his face? 

Is there anything he can do to help?

Luckily, it looks like Lance’s human friends are coming to join him. They swing his hammock a bit, trying to encourage him to come out or to smile. Giving in to peer pressure, he gets out, and the three of them sit in the sand. Hunk produces a ukulele from behind his back, but Lance doesn’t look too keen on playing it. With stronger insistence from Hunk, Lance caves and takes the offered instrument to pluck a few strings.

Keith watches from the shallows as they trade off back and forth for a bit, talking all the while. The instrument gets foisted off on Lance the most. It seems to be helping as his attitude improves the longer he plays until eventually, he’s smiling again. Keith finds himself unable to look away as Lance’s fingers brush the strings, his head tilting to listen to the notes. 

Lance gives him a friendly wave that Keith just acknowledges with a nod. He points to Keith while talking with the others. Can’t tell what they’re saying but Lance chatters on enthusiastically, using his hands to show his excitement. They blink and nod with interest, asking questions and discussing their work. Discussing Keith. 

The trio moves down to the beach, much closer to Keith, and take a seat before playing the ukulele again. Hunk plays some local music on it and sings, his baritone of a voice floating out over the bay. He’s no Koi, but he does sound pretty good. Keith lays there in the shallows and listens to them as they play and sing.

Lance calls out to him and gestures for him to join them, but Keith shakes his head. He could get closer, but being that far up on the sand makes him feel too vulnerable even when he isn’t hurt. 

Besides, being the only mer among them makes him feel on the spot. No thanks. He’s happy where he is. Lance looks disappointed but shrugs out a ‘your loss’ before taking the ukulele back to play more.

Something happens while Lance is strumming the instrument. Other merfolk come in closer to hear the music. Two Dolphinians at first. And then a Koi. Then another Dolphinian. Then several more Koi. Before he knows it, when Keith looks over his shoulder, he finds there’s at least twenty mer in the shallows listening to the trio play and sing. 

Keith’s shocked. Not that they’re interested in the music. Most Koi love to sing. No, he’s more shocked at how close a lot of the mer are to _him_. They don’t even seem to notice the Galra there, laying down in the shallows within thrashing distance. 

Lance looks ecstatic to see so many mer near them. Bright beaming smile as he elbows his friends. Hunk’s pulling out his small travel camera and taking pictures. Keith does his best not to move so as not to startle any of the others. With Lance as happy as he is, seeing so many so close, he doesn’t want to ruin it by scaring the others away. 

Just as Shiro shows up, Lance starts a new song. It’s all melody--highs and lows with no distinct words. Some of the Koi nearby pick up the tune quickly enough and, when Lance encourages them to join in, they begin singing. Before long a few others join in, including Shiro. 

It’s beautiful, the song. Almost romantic sounding. He can feel it in the tone… a longing for something far away. Mer have always been good at determining emotion behind tone, and this feeling is familiar to them--the feeling of missing someone or something out there.

Part of Keith wants to sing too, but… what if the mer all stop when he starts? What if the others don’t want him to join in? He bites his lips in and sinks a little into the water, prepared to just pretend like he’s not there. 

Lance spots him trying to hide himself and catches his eye. He gives him an encouraging look and gestures to the group.  He then sends a message with his hands, one that he picked up from Keith himself. It’s quick so he can get his hands back on the strings, but the message is clear.

_I can’t hear you._

Lance _wants_ him to sing? 

Well… Lance has been kinda low. And this whole thing does seem to be lifting Lance’s spirits. Maybe he’ll join in a little. Quietly. Too quiet for anyone to hear him. 

With that in mind, Keith stays laid down low in the shallows. He raises his lips just barely over the surface and opens his mouth to vocalize some of the notes. 

While Keith starts with being barely audible and a slightly embarrassed flush to his face, within a minute he’s a little louder. He even raises out of the water a bit so he can take in more air for longer notes. Before long, his voice joins the others in volume. It doesn’t look like they take notice of where the new voice came from, but the group compensates to harmonize with the added sound.

Lance looks over to find the corners of Keith's mouth upturned as he mouths out notes. His tail sways to the slow beat that Hunk’s keeping by drumming his thighs. Lance seems surprised at first, but that disbelief melts into a pleased smile. That small smile spreads wider and wider while his fingers pluck the strings. It’s still the slow swaying song it was before, but now there’s more energy in Lance’s voice as he hums. 

Something about that makes Keith feel glad that he decided to try.

When the song ends, Hunk and Pidge clap their applause. Some of the mer click or clap depending on how they are laying or sitting in the shallows. Some even say words of praise in Aquan as Lance stands and takes a bow. 

“Shiro, can I get a quick translation done?” Lance asks after he stands up straight.

“Of course, Lance. Say your piece,” Shiro nods.

“Thanks for singing with me everyone,” he starts and waits until Shiro’s finished speaking before continuing. “I thought I was going to spend my birthday in a slump.”

Birthday? Today is Lance’s birthday? 

“See, I turned twenty-four today, and it really bummed me out because this is the first year I couldn’t celebrate with my family,” Lance tells them, and he gets a few sympathetic noises from the pods. They can’t imagine being away from their families so the information that Lance is without his hits their hearts. “But with all your singing… it felt like I was home with them. So thanks, you’re all amazing.”

“Happy birthday, Lance!” shouts a Dolphinian boy. “We go surf tomorrow!”

“I’d like that,” Lance smiles. 

“More song! Play another!” says another Dolphinian girl. She and several others keep encouraging with the same Aquan phrase over and over. It becomes something like an unrelenting chant.

“Haha, yeah. Okay. Maybe one more,” Lance gives in and takes back the ukulele. “Requests, Hunk?”

“Quien Será?” Hunk asks, and Lance nods with a grin. One of his favorites.

“You’re not going to make me cha-cha are you?” Pidge frowns.

“Come on Pidge,” Hunk pleads and pulls her up out of the sand. “It’s Lance’s birthday. I bet it would make him feel better, right, Lance?”

They both level pouts at her, and she gives in.

“Fine, but just this once,” she insists emphatically, and the boys cheer. “Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t done the cha-cha in two years. I _will_ be rusty.”

Lance begins another song, this one while standing. The tune is far more lively than the last, and it has words. No one can understand him, though. It’s not the English that he’s always speaking, and it's certainly not Aquan. It flows a little like the Koi dialect of Aquan though. Smooth and rolling.

While Lance plays and sings, both Hunk and Pidge do their dance while laughing. The mer watch with awe and curiosity. Dancing is one of those things that only humans do. It’s as nuanced for humans as swimming is for mer, so it’s entrancing to look at their feet as they step in quick, practiced succession in the sand. 

It’s mind-boggling that a human can be coordinated enough for the intricacies of dancing but flounder in the ocean. Normally, Keith would find himself staring at their feet just like the others. After all, it’s the only thing humans have going for them.  Yes, normally his eyes would be glued to those feet, but…

Keith finds himself memorizing the notes to the song. Not the words, of course, but the rise and fall of the lyrics. The melody of them. His eyes close to focus on the timbre and exact pitch of each word so he can annotate it in his head, but while doing so he can’t help but notice the emotion behind Lance’s words. Even though he doesn’t know the meaning, he finds a warmth blooming in his chest.

A happy song, he concludes. A song full of fondness. One he’ll give a try singing at the next full moon for his mother and father. They’d have liked it--Lance’s song--he’s certain of that. 

When the song finishes, all three humans take their bows whilst the merfolk clap.  With that, Lance returns the ukulele to Hunk. That’s it for tonight. It’s starting to get dark, and that’s when most mer start settling in for the night. The merfolk scatter to their respective areas to ready themselves for the evening. 

The humans are about to head out when Shiro calls Lance over. He offers him a personal happy birthday that Lance takes with thanks. Keith makes his way over there to listen to them chat even though the words elude him. Lance quickly takes notice and breaks from his conversation to nod his acknowledgment of Keith’s presence. Keith nods back. 

“Can you…?” Lance starts while pointing to Keith. Shiro nods and Lance turns to Keith. “Did you like the music?” he asks, and Shiro translates.

Keith shrugs in an attempt to appear indifferent but nods. The answer makes Lance smile with… is that relief? Keith gestures something out with his hands while keeping his eyes in the sand. 

“He says it was nice. He liked the last one. Upbeat,” Shiro reiterates. “And that he’s sorry you can’t be with your family.”

“I’ll be okay. As long as I’m with my friends, it’s hard to be too down,” Lance tells him. 

He says that yet his eyes still look a little sad and that smile isn’t as bracing as it was in days before. Someone should fix that. Keith has an idea as to how. He scoots a foot deeper into the shallows and gestures out something that has Shiro’s eyes going a little wider.

“He says… he has a present for you,” Shiro translates with utter disbelief. _“Keith, what do you mean a present? What are you--_ ”

Keith cuts him off with a ‘trust me’ sign. He beckons Lance to come closer and to put his hand out.

“A present? For me?” Lance blinks with curious interest. Keith gestures impatiently for his hand again, and Lance eagerly extends it. “What is--”

Oh, that gullible fool. 

Lance sees the devious smirk on this face too late. Keith grasps his hand and tugs him into the water, tripping him with a swoop of his fin. Lance yelps in surprise as his legs are knocked out from under him, forcing him to take a dive into the shallows and soaking him yet again. When he comes up, Lance is sputtering out water with a laugh.

“Keith,” Shiro starts, shaking his head with disappointment, but he can’t fight the smile.

“I can’t believe I fell for that,” Lance snorts as he gets to his feet again, drenched with sea water. “God you suck,” he says, but laughs as he flings water off him. “This was my good shirt too.”

Keith himself shakes with mute laughter, teeth gleaming with a proud grin. Now that smile on Lance’s face is a real one. No sad undertones or far off eyes. As Keith laughs, he misses when Lance digs into the beach for a handful of muddy sand. With a comical splat, it pelts the side of Keith’s face.

Shiro stifles a snort, but Lance unabashedly grins at Keith who blinks with shock. Did he just--

Keith grabs his own handful and throws back. Lance dodges, and it hits Shiro’s shoulder instead. Lance bursts with laughter at that, but this time Keith nails his open mouth with a wad of seaweed. 

“Fuck! Gross!” Lance spits it out with a gagging noise that makes Keith snort. “Hunk! Save me!” he laughs as he scoops sand and throws it at Keith, using Shiro as cover. 

“Uh, no thanks,” Hunk declines.

“Party pooper!” Lance exclaims and flings a seaweed wad at him with max power. 

It overshoots and propels past him to hit Pidge instead. It slaps loudly against her glasses, making everyone stop and stare. An eerie feeling washes over the entire group, like the calm before the storm. Even Keith pauses as the air around them changes. They all watch her with trepidation as she slowly peels the object from her perturbed face.

“So glad that you had the chance to make it to your twenty-fourth birthday, Lance… because now you’re DEAD!” she announces.

With that, Pidge storms the beach yelling, scooping up sand and tossing handfuls into Lance’s face. Before she can grab more wet handfuls, Lance grabs and flips her over his back into the water with a splash. Hunk finally joins the fight with a battle cry as he body slams Lance back into the shallows. 

Wet sand, seaweed wads, and water go flying and splashing in every direction with gleeful laughter in the air. 

Shiro ducks to avoid most of the fire, refusing to be a shield in their brawl. Keith flings great waves with his tail while Hunk picks up Lance or Pidge to throw them back into the water. Lance and Pidge pelt each other with fistfuls of sand and seaweed, nailing each other in neck or hair. Within minutes they’re on their hands and knees in the water, ready to collapse with exhaustion.

“Such children,” Shiro smiles, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Lance gasps for air in the shallows, trying to catch his breath amidst all his laughter. Hunk’s crawling his way up the beach and collapsing in the sand with a groan. Pidge stalks her way up, drenched and wringing out her shirt as she goes. They’re all covered in sand and seaweed. When Lance looks up, he finds that Keith’s panting too with a cheeky grin.

“Best birthday ever,” he says to himself and then nods at Keith. “ _Thanks._ ”

Keith rolls his eyes but maintains the smile. Signals out the closing hand from his mouth again. Don’t mention it.  

“Come on Lance,” Pidge says and yanks him to his feet. “If we’re gonna take you out to dinner I need to wash the sand out of my ass first,” she adds.

“Nice mental image, Pidge,” Lance snorts.

“Just telling it like it is,” she shrugs and starts trudging her way towards the treeline.

“There’s a little Mexican restaurant downtown. It’ll be just like home,” Hunk promises. Lance opens his mouth to say something, but Hunk cuts him off. “Yeah, I know you’re from Cuba. It’s the closest you’ll find here.”

“So suck it up!” Pidge yells back. 

“Right,” Lance says with a resigned smile. He turns to the mer and waves. “Later. See you guys tomorrow. Oh Shiro, can you talk to Keith about the blood thing?”

“I’ll try to explain it to him,” Shiro nods and waves him off. “Go have fun. And happy birthday again, Lance.”

“Thanks,” Lance smiles and takes off up into the treeline.

Once he’s gone, Keith addresses Shiro. 

Lance said his name. What did he want? What did he say?

Shiro explains that soon the scientists are getting blood samples from willing volunteers. They’ll run it through machines, to check their health but also to improve medicines for the mer. If anyone is sick, they can treat them before they leave at the end of the migration. Lance was hoping Keith would allow him to get a sample and Keith wrinkles his nose.

Can’t say he’s exactly keen on it.

“ _He stressed that you don’t have to_ ,” Shiro tells him. “ _But you should consider it Keith. They learn so quickly from running simple tests. If you were to ever get sick--they’d be the ones to fix you up._ ”

 It’s not like his own people will help him if he becomes ill--Koi nor Galra. 

Keith shrugs. He gestures out that he’ll think about it, but for now, he wants to head to bed. He’s tired, and tomorrow he wants to actually hunt for something. Not that he doesn’t appreciate Lance’s efforts, but his stomach has had a craving for something fresher than fish market uku. So Keith waves Shiro away. 

He slowly makes his way back under his float to sleep like he used to when he wasn’t injured. He curls the end of his tail into the rope anchor under the water once he sinks to the bottom and breathes the water of the bay. It’s dark and difficult to see, but even from the sandy bottom, he’s just able to spot sparkling stars and a waning moon. 

Another month and a half and they’ll be moving on to the next safe haven to follow the plentiful fish. 

There’s something bittersweet about that. Keith’s finally grown to like it here. The waters are nice and the food delicious. And the company… well, Lance and his friends aren’t as annoying as he first found them. When Keith thinks about leaving, there’s a small ache in his chest. He comes to the conclusion that he’ll miss the humans and their constant presence.

He’ll miss Lance. Not for any particular reason, he tells himself. He justifies it by thinking he’ll miss those beautiful drawings and bad attempts at Aquan that make him snort. And he’ll miss the books he always brings. Those are what he’ll miss. Certainly not the human’s laughter or his ridiculous cavalier smile or his soft ocean blue eyes. 

Keith sighs deeply, shaking his head.

No, he… he won’t miss those at all. 

*****

Several days later, Keith watches from his stomach on his float, elbows propping him up and cheeks resting in his palms. Across the bay, but not too terribly far, is a gathering of several different mer and the human scientists. He can’t see much from his distance, but he knows they’re supposed to be taking blood and the idea of it makes Keith wrinkle his nose again.

Blood is meant to be _inside_ the body. That’s where it’s _supposed_ to be. To lose it without the premise of injury seems… odd.  Do they cut them and put it into bottles? Does it hurt? How do they study it?

It doesn’t look like it takes long by how quickly the scientists go through taking their samples. It seems to only take five minutes before the mer are slipping back into the bay, no worse for wear. 

Mostly it’s Dolphinians at first, but then several Koi join the line of people getting blood drawn. It wouldn’t do to have a preventable illness for when they make the trip back. Better to be uncomfortable for a few minutes than sick for months.

Lance keeps track of how many come in for testing, and it’s looking like nearly all of them. Even children. They have the choice of Lance, Hunk, or Matt, but most of them go to the older scientists since they know them better. 

That said, Lance is popular with the mer children. He gives them a ball to hold or play with to distract them as he takes a sample. Sometimes he hums a song that has them humming along, and they don’t even notice the needle. After several hours have passed nearly every mer has been drawn from with the exception of the few extremely shy ones.

And Keith, of course.

“He’s not going to let you,” Matt tells him as he labels the last of the samples with the mer’s names and catalog numbers. “Keith,” he elaborates even though he didn’t need to.

“Yeah, I kinda figured he wouldn’t,” Lance shrugs as he looks away from Keith’s float to organize the vials in the carrying case. “No big deal. I mean, I already have plenty for my paper. Even ran some tests on his scales. It should be enough to pass and get my Masters.”

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep a sample from when Keith got hurt, but ethically it isn’t right to take blood from someone without permission. Scales are one thing since they shed old ones naturally and mer aren’t particularly attached to keeping old scales. To them, they’re the equivalent of fingernail clippings. But blood… blood is far more valuable and personal, so permission must be granted.

“Have you tried just asking?” Hunk inquires. “Sometimes it’s as easy as that.”

“Shiro asked him for me since I’m not that great at Aquan,” Lance says and then pouts. “Keith just laughs at my pronunciation, and I think it keeps him from taking me seriously.”

“You do sound a little like a kid,” Matt admits. 

“Hey, do you know how hard it is to have like… four languages trying to swim around inside your head?” Lance frowns and numbers them off. “Spanish, English, Aquan, and Keith’s very specific sign language that doesn’t correlate to our sign language at all. It’s a lot to keep straight, okay? I sound like a genius in Spanish! And almost a genius in English! I can’t help it if I sound like a toddler in a language I’m just _now_ starting to learn!”

“Alright, alright, Lance. Chill out,” Matt chuckles. “I was just teasing.”

“Sorry,” Lance sighs and cards a hand through his hair to calm down. “It’s just a little frustrating not being able to get my points across.”

“Bet that’s how Keith feels most of the time too,” Matt adds. 

“Are you sure he explicitly said no?” Hunk asks his eyes on the horizon. “‘cause he’s not on his float anymore,” he adds with a chuckle as he points.

Matt and Lance look up and find he’s right. The float is empty. And in the shallows is a slowly approaching Keith. Not stalking like he does when he wants to get the drop on them. No devious smirk preluding a prank. Just a slow swimming pace that has him rising up out of the water at the shallows.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance waves and makes the gesture for ‘hello’. 

Keith just nods and quirks his head at their things. He signs out something simple that has both Hunk and Matt looking to Lance for translation. Luckily, it's not complicated, and since Lance pays attention to the signs Keith shows him; he’s pretty sure of the words. 

“He wants to know how it works, I think,” Lance says. “I caught ‘tool’ and ‘what for’. So that’s just a guess.”

Lance does a sign back. Pats his chest and then taps his upright palm. Says he’ll show him. But he’s going to have to come closer than that, so he waves Keith in. 

Keith shrugs and cautiously climbs up into the sands before taking a seat much closer. His tail is still coiled tight like a spring, ready to push off back into the bay at a second’s notice.

“Wow,” Matt stares awestruck. “He’s amazing.”

Lance had forgotten the last time Matt was this close was when they went surfing and he didn’t get a really good look at more than Keith’s face. Now he can see the whole mer in his full glory.

Dusky scarlet scales with interspersed purple ‘freckle’ scales, thicker and wider than those of the average Koi. Sharp spines on his forearms and pointed fins at his ears, back, sides. Well-defined muscles from all his swimming and razor-like claws at the end of his webbed fingers. Stormy eyes that look like a squall is brewing behind them. Matt just continues to stare in awe, and it’s not hard to see why. 

Keith is as beautiful as he is deadly.

“Hunk,  hand me a kit,” Lance says, his hand reaching. “And Matt if you could translate--”

“Yeah! Sure!” Matt nods and takes a seat next to Lance. “Can’t believe I’m going to talk with a Galra mer. Wow.”

Keith listens with intense interest as Lance shows him the components of his testing equipment. A clear collection vial connected to a long narrow tube which is then connected to a needle. That needle goes into the skin and--

Keith signs something, interrupting him. His index fingers touch together, twisting slightly as they connect and pull apart. Then another with a clenched fist tapping at his wrist. Hunk and Matt blink at each other, the motions lost on them. Lance gives him a soft laugh and shakes his head. 

“No, it’s not dangerous. And it doesn’t hurt. Not really. Like a pinch,” Lance explains as Matt translates. “Here, I’ll show you. Hunk take my blood.”

“Wh--”

“Show him it’s harmless,” Lance insists. “Maybe he’ll even let us draw some blood from him.”

Hunk snorts but agrees with a laugh. Yeah, sure. Why not? What have they got to lose?

Keith watches intently as Hunk puts on gloves. Lance extends his arm and Hunk puts on tourniquet before he disinfects the area. Gently, with the softest bedside manner possible, Hunk inserts the needle into Lance’s median cephalic vein. It doesn’t prompt even a wince out of Lance. 

Within seconds blood is flushing down the tube and into the collection vial. Keith’s eyes go wide with curious shock at the sight of it.

“See? Easy,” Lance smiles. 

Keith gestures a single word but never takes his eyes off the vial.

“What did he say?”

“He said it’s red,” Lance snorts. “Of course it’s red, you idiot. Just like yours.”

Well, the last time Keith saw Lance bleed it was the dead of night. It looked different then. Like squid ink in the light of the moon. How was he supposed to know it was red?

Once finished, Hunk removes the tourniquet and slips the needle out. Then he presses a cotton ball into the crook of Lance’s elbow, making him bend it and hold it that way for several minutes. In the meantime, Hunk labels the bottle with Lance’s name and dates it too. When finished, Lance takes the vial and shows it to Keith, who takes it in his hands and turns it over.

Keith looks at the container between his claws with a contemplative frown. It was that easy? That’s it? And with something as simple as this Lance can find out if he’s got illnesses or parasites or whatever? Keith hands it back and extends his arm. It takes Lance a second to realize that this isn’t a sign of his, it’s an offering.

Keith wants to give a sample to them.

“Really?” Lance blinks with a smile. “ _Are you sure?_ ”

Keith nods and shakes his arm impatiently. The message is clear: do it now, or he’ll change his mind. 

Hunk readies the next kit but when he reaches out to tie the tourniquet on Keith’s arm the mer shrinks away. He then re-extends his arm back out to Lance with a petulant-looking frown and an uncertain glance towards Hunk. Hunk and Matt snort out laughter at that response and Lance just blinks with confusion. Keith huffs an impatient noise and shakes his arm again at Lance.

“What…?”

“I think he wants _you_ to do it,” Matt chuckles. 

“Well, Lance did establish a rapport with him,” Hunk reminds him. “Keith trusts him, not us.”

“O-Oh, okay,” Lance nods with understanding and puts on his own gloves. “Sure thing, yeah. I can-- _hold still, understand?_ ”

Lance ties the tourniquet. He disinfects the area where Keith’s vein is and has him make a fist. Keith flinches when the needle goes in, but the amount of pain is negligible, just like Lance said it would be. He’s been pinched by crabs harder than that. He watches as blood rushes down the tube into the container at the end. 

Red. Just like his scales. Just like Lance’s blood. 

The whole while Lance nibbles at his bottom lip with a light dusting of heat on his cheeks. Why did their saying that Keith trusted him make his heartrate leap several paces? He guessed Keith trusted him with how often he lets him approach but… hearing it aloud makes warmth bloom in his chest.

“There, all done,” Lance says, clearing his throat. 

Matt instructs Keith to keep his arm up with gauze in his elbow for a few minutes until the bleeding stops. Lance writes Keith’s name on the vial with a series of numbers. Once that’s done, he turns it around for the mer to see. Keith shrugs dismissively and gestures out a quick sign with a roll of his eyes. 

“Let me guess,” Matt smirks. “‘No big deal’?”

“Probably,” Lance says.

“We should get these running if we want results in the next couple of days,” Hunk notes as he packs up the last sample and climbs to his feet. 

“I’ll come too,” Matt says and takes Hunk’s offered hand to pull him up. “I’ve got a date… with my computer programs,” he jokes.

“Lance, be sure to thank Keith for all his help,” Hunk points. “That guy is going to make you famous. Bet you’re grateful he didn’t eat your face that first day.”

He doesn’t need the reminder, Lance tells them, and they laugh. They take off up to the treeline and reach the path back to the labs. They’ll do all kinds of tests on those blood samples. He himself can’t wait to get his hands on the data, but for now, he’s sitting on the beach with a rare merman. The Galra stares out at the bay in the bright noontime sun, still holding the gauze to his elbow and--wait, is Keith humming?

He is. Shiro had said Keith sings to soothe himself, but Lance can’t imagine that drawing blood hurt badly enough for that. And the wounds on his back are mostly closed now. So it’s not that. 

But now that he’s listening closer he can tell it’s not a sad song. It’s a happy one. Suddenly he recognizes the tune with a bright grin.

“Quien Será!” Lance says, and it breaks Keith’s concentration enough to stop. “Er, _sorry_ ,” he apologizes and bobs his head before singing a little. “Quien será la que me quiera a mi… Quien será… Quien será.”

Keith listens to the words, looking intently at Lance’s lips as he sings them. He signals Lance to stop, and he does. Then Keith signs something with a questioning brow. Lance has a little trouble figuring out the gestures but...

Is that ‘mouth’? No, it’s ‘talking’. ‘Words’. What are the words, maybe? Lance then snaps with understanding. 

What _language_ is Lance speaking?

“Oh boy, Matt left too soon,” Lance says with a tight smile. “ _Can’t. Too hard_ ,” he settles for, and Keith looks disappointed. “ _Ask Shiro. Tell later._ ”

Keith nods at that but then stares at Lance expectantly. It’s not until several moments pass in silence that Lance realizes Keith isn’t leaving for his float because he’s waiting. Waiting for Lance to keep going. He started singing so now he has to finish. Can’t leave a song unfinished, it’s bad luck.

“Oh uh, where did I--” Lance recalls where he left off. “Ah, Quien será la que me dé su amor… Quien será… Quien será.”

Lance taps the tempo on his leg to keep time and continues singing it as Keith listens. It isn’t until he gets to the next section that Lance realizes that he’s stopped singing out towards the bay and singing towards Keith instead. 

It feels intimate with just the two of them, far different from when it was the entire ensemble of Koi and his friends. Especially intimate because the lyrics are incredibly romantic and perfect for wooing someone.

Not that Keith seems to notice. No, he’s busy humming the melody of the words, his face serious like he’s studying. His eyes are closed like he’s trying to focus on getting the tune right. Head turned and leaning his ear in close to hear better. 

Lance’s eyes flick down to Keith’s lips. Soft looking and pressed together as he hums. Like this, they pass for human. You’d never know there were sharp teeth behind them. Gill slits closed to barely discernible lines on his neck. Dark, mostly dry, hair framing his face and curling around his cheeks. 

He always thought Keith was a wonder. A marvel and interesting but… he really is beautiful. It’s very easy to believe that sirens might have once been real in regards to how alluring Keith is without even trying. It’s not until Lance’s voice wavers a little during the ‘la passión y el calor’ line that he realizes how close he’s gotten to Keith’s face. Inches away.

Lance suddenly stops singing and leans back with a cough.

“Th-That’s all of it,” Lance tells him, and Keith blinks his eyes open. “ _All done,_ ” he adds.

Keith gestures out a word. Repeat. He wants to hear it again. Lance just shakes his head and fishes for an excuse as to why he can’t.

“I uh, I gotta go,” he says, swallowing down some spit as he quickly stands. “ _Work to do_ ,” he stammers as he gestures out ‘a see you later’ and then suddenly takes off up the beach.

Lance jogs his way up the path and past the tent. Then further up until he can’t see the shore. He doesn’t slow down until he reaches the lab facility down the road. His feet finally come to a stop at the bench that’s outside for people to take their smoke break on. He drops into it and puts a palm to his forehead while taking a calming breath.

“What the hell is wrong with you, McClain?” Lance mutters to himself. “Do you want to lose your job? Your scholarships?”

While it’s fun to dream about lounging on a beach and making out with a mermaid, it’s another to act on that fantasy. He knows better than this. It was in the paperwork for working there. No fraternizing with the merfolk. And yet he almost--

“You almost blew it, you moron,” Lance scolds. 

If someone--anyone--had seen him, he’d have lost everything. They’d have booted him out of there faster than he can say Santa Maria. All his hard work gone and down the drain. No other facility would ever touch him either.

“He can be your friend, but remember he’s also the subject of your studies,” Lance reminds himself. “Keep. It. Professional.”

For more reasons than just the ethical one. Romantic relationships between mer and humans are a bad idea all around. It’s happened before over the decades, and it’s always ended in tears for those involved. 

Mer choose their mates for life. And most live a very very long time. Much longer than a human by a long stretch. And when a mer’s mate dies there’s a high percentage of mer that beach themselves in melancholy. That’s dozens of mer lives lost too young because a human thought it would be whimsical and romantic to pledge themselves to a mermaid. 

But Lance… he’d never do that. 

No, he’d never fall head over heels for Keith. Sure, he’s funny with his stupid pranks and that mischievous grin. Lance likes being around him even when they just sit in silence to watch the sunset. And yeah, he’s ridiculously attractive with his purpley-grey eyes and long dark hair and firm muscles. Fascinating red scales and--

“God damn it,” he grabs his face and groans dramatically.

Falling head over heels sounds exactly like something he’d do. Like something he’s doing right now. He’s going to ruin everything he’s ever worked towards! All because he can’t keep his boner for a merman in his p--

“No… I’m fine. This is fine,” he tells himself, taking a deep breath. “You can… have a crush--just a _little_ crush. But that’s all, McClain! No more than that!” 

No harm came from an unrequited crush. As long as Keith doesn’t show any interest, then it’s all fine. And if Keith ever does show interest, Lance just needs to squash it immediately. It’s as easy as that. The only real danger comes with Keith falling for him. Lance can survive a broken heart; a mer often can’t.

 But Keith? Falling for a human? He snorts at the very idea.

Lance loves a good fairy tale, but that just sounds utterly ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my beautiful betas <3 *smooches for all of you*

**"Sand lines my soul which is filled with the breath of the ocean."**

_\--A.D. Posey_

 

Lance doesn’t change his routine by a single iota. He doesn’t want Keith to think anything is different when it comes to their interactions. He tells himself that it’s because he doesn’t want it to affect his data, but the truth is he doesn’t want Keith to suspect anything and then stop interacting with him. 

So he continues to bring books for Keith to peruse and makes more horrible attempts at Aquan that have Keith teasing him. At one point, he just asks that Keith teach him a few signs to associate with different words and questions. It seems easier than the mer language by a ton, and it keeps Keith interested in conversing with him.

Keith finds that he admires the lengths Lance will go to understand him. No one else has ever tried to learn his gestures like this. Other than Shiro, no one has ever wanted to meet him halfway. With a little help from Shiro to help translate, Lance learns to do the most basic of signed conversations in just a week. The simplest words but still, it’s better than nothing, and it makes Keith feel appreciated.

In return, Lance brings them fruit from the market as well as fish jerky. As a thank you for being so patient with him. When he has some spare time, he sits on the beach with the two of them just talking about everything. Hunk sometimes joins them, but Pidge is busy studying the Altean merfolk since one is finally willing to get close to them. 

Today though, it’s just the two mer and Lance. The topic of conversation is Lance’s phone and all the pictures on it. Both Shiro and Keith have some interest in human technology. Where Shiro’s interest lies in how it works, Keith’s interest is just in the contents.

“This is my sister Rachel,” Lance says and shows the picture to them. Keith gestures out a sign, and both Shiro and Lance laugh a little. “Yeah, we look a lot alike because we’re twins. And this is Veronica. My other sister. Also, there’s my brothers Marco and Luis.”

“You have quite the large pod--er, family,” Shiro corrects. “Are you the youngest?”

“Only by about two minutes, but yeah. I’m the baby,” Lance chuckles. 

Keith signs out two similar signs, but they aren’t ones Lance has learned yet, so he looks to Shiro for help.

“Your parents. Do you have pictures of your mother and father?” Shiro translates and does the signs for ‘mother’ and ‘father’ as he says them.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Lance says and scans through. Once he finds a picture, he hands the phone over to Keith. He’s long stopped worrying that he’ll damage it or toss it into the water. “My mom and dad.”

Lance continues to talk about them with a fond look in his eyes. Shiro translates all he can, but Keith’s hardly listening now that he has the phone in his hands. 

Human technology is fascinating. He slides through the pictures at lightning speed to absorb all the images inside. Lance with his mom. With his brother. Selfies of Lance in different places with strange surroundings. Lots of smiles and a couple of sunsets. 

There are pictures of Lance with pretty women. And handsome men. In some of the pictures, they’re kissing on the cheek. But there are never more than about a dozen of each new face he sees. The only repeats are his family members. Keith hands the phone back and asks a question he’s been wondering for a while now as he points at the phone.

“Which one is your mate?” Shiro translates.

“Mate?” Lance snorts out a laugh. “We don’t… call them mates. Also, why does he think I have one?” 

“Most mer believe humans choose their partners young because your life spans are so much shorter than ours, but I’ll ask,” Shiro nods and turns to Keith. “ _Why do you think he’s chosen a mate, Keith?_ ”

A series of signs, of which Lance only recognizes two: ‘beach’ and ‘sad’. 

“Ah, I see. He says you sit and look somber over the ocean. Like you’re hurt. Thought you might be suffering melancholy from being parted from someone,” Shiro says. “ _Keith, humans don’t get melancholy like we do. He likely just misses his family._ ”

“Oh, no no no. I just miss my home. My family,” Lance clarifies. “I don’t have a partner. I work too much, so people get sick of sitting around waiting for me.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lance,” Shiro says sympathetically after he translates. 

“I’m not too worried about it,” Lance shrugs and waves it off. “I’m still young. Plenty of time for that stuff later,” he adds with a smile before checking his watch.

Speaking of time, he has to head back to the house. Get some shut-eye. All next week starting tomorrow he has to put in late nights in the main building--cleaning aquariums and studying blood test data. He lets them know that unless they’re out there at ungodly hours, they won’t see much of him for the next several days.

Keith frowns with annoyance (and perhaps that’s disappointment too) when he hears this but huffs his understanding with a gesture. A ‘good luck’ before slipping back into the ocean to do a quick search for some easy snacks before bed. Lance bids Shiro goodbye before starting the trek back to the Holt abode. 

*****

“The Alteans are FASCINATING!” Pidge rambles quickly, fingers tapping away at the keys on her laptop. “Now, I only have _one_ that’s willing to let me take samples and study her up close, but that’s more than enough for now. They understand Aquan but don’t speak it of course. No voice boxes. I’m trying to do a video log of their flashing lights to associate with common phrases and--”

“Are they mind readers like the legends say?” Hunk asks curiously and Pidge snorts with laughter.

“Of course not! That’s junk science! I mean, how would I even ask them that? ‘Excuse me, can you read my thoughts? Or speak into my brain?’” 

“Well, yeah. Ask them that,” Hunk shrugs. “I find that’s the fastest way to get information from the Dolphinians. They appreciate candor.”

“If a mer had telepathic abilities, do you think they’d admit it? They remember what happened centuries ago when people thought they were magical,” Pidge sighs with a sad faraway look as her fingers still on the keys. “They’d get scared thinking a new round of poaching was coming if I asked about that sort of stuff.”

They talk and talk but Lance is at his desk. He’s not listening, courtesy of the earbuds pulsing music into his ear. Soft Latin guitar music from his favorite Cuban station while he doodles in his research sketchbook.

This is the third set of doodles of Keith’s lidded stormy eyes. Eyes that have seen too many horrors of an indifferent world. Father poached before he was old enough to understand why. Mother attacked by a shark and left to die. Voice stolen by his grief. Ostracized by his own people for a lineage he had no hand in choosing. 

It’s all so tragic. Lance sighs and begins a new drawing. 

A sharp chin and firm jawline. Thick neck and shoulders freckled with water. Dark hair, wind-tossed and wild. Sharp teeth just barely poking past his frown. Face turned up and staring fiercely into the distance. 

He’s like a fire, Lance thinks. Dangerous...but entrancing. He can easily see a sailor lost at sea and spotting Keith off the bow on some rocky outcrops. All Keith would have to do is entice him with a song and the sailor would gladly jump overboard to drown. Hell, he can even see himself swimming through a shark’s feeding grounds if Keith beckoned him with that voice of his. 

“So dramatic. Stop that,” he scolds himself quietly. 

He flips the page and starts a new drawing with a wistful sigh as he remembers his great-grandfather.

Gramps used to tell him the story of how he caught a mermaid in his fishing net all the time. He loved telling that story, and Lance would always sit at his feet with barely containable excitement, no matter how many times he heard it.

Sailors were superstitious types back then. Still are. Mermaids were considered more bad luck than good. Better to kill them, so they don’t scare off or steal fish from the locals’ nets. It’s what one was supposed to do.

But Gramps was just a young man then. Naive and hopeful. When he dropped the net on his deck he found _her_ caught inside. 

The mermaid had a broken wrist from struggling to free herself. She was trembling with fear, certain that the landwalker was going to kill her, skin her, and sell her flesh for money. Tears in her eyes, she babbled things to him in Aquan. He didn’t know how he knew, but he swore she was pleading for her life.

He could never kill such a beautiful creature. Such a human creature.

That’s when he cut her free of the net. A net that back then cost his family a pretty penny. His father beat him black and blue for ruining it. Probably would have beat him more if he knew the truth of why. But he lied and said it was a large shark that he couldn’t shake out.

Gramps spoke softly to her. She couldn’t understand him but the tone was non-threatening and it calmed her enough to stop her shaking. He splinted her wrist as it was the only thing he could do for her. Then he helped her to the edge of his boat, so she could return to the ocean. 

As thanks, she kissed him. Passionately. That was always Gramps’ favorite part of the story. Gramps nearly choked on the marble she passed to him via mouth. By the time he coughed it out, she was already gone into the sloshing waves. 

From that day on he carried the marble with him constantly. He had only good fishing days. His great-grandfather always hoped to see her again but he never did. 

Lance isn’t surprised by that at all. His description of her wasn’t very good, but after all of Lance’s studies, he concluded that she was some kind of Lancetfish mer. Uncommon but not rare by any means. Deep-sea like the Galra, though much smaller. They hardly ever come up to the surface and as far as the scientific community knows, Lancetfish mer don’t migrate. They stay in the tropics and subtropics. 

She was probably separated from her pod. Thought she’d sate her curiosity and visit the surface world. Thing is, Lancetfish have eyes made for the deepest darkness. The sun likely blinded her. Disoriented, she ran into the fishing nets and couldn’t get out. Her fate was luckier than most.

“Damn it,” Lance mumbles when he sees what he’s drawn.

More drawings of Keith. 

The half Galra laying on his float, elbows propping him up and his cheeks in his hands. That playful smirk like he’s plotting another prank. A second sketch of Keith tugging his fingers through his hair to detangle it after a swim, pulling it up and exposing his thick neck and pretty gill slits. The last drawing is Keith stretching his arms up, neck tilted to crack it. In that one Keith’s making a face he’s never made at Lance...lips parted and eyes inviting. Dark, lidded, and burning with interest.

These shouldn’t stay in his research sketchbook. It’s unprofessional.

He tears the pictures out. The best thing to do would be to throw them away, so he doesn’t encourage this...infatuation...further. He very nearly does it. His hand grips the page edges and the other readies to crumble them. 

Instead, it's his will that crumbles. Lance reaches into a drawer and pulls out a folder. He slides the beautiful drawings inside the sleeve and puts the folder away in the drawer. In case he feels like...looking at them again. Curse it all, he’s already screwed, isn’t he?

“So screwed,” he mumbles to himself before closing the sketchbook and flopping into his bed. Pidge and Hunk take that to mean its bedtime. They kill the light and make to continue their conversation on the living room couch so Lance can catch some Zs. 

*****

The late hours in the main building are almost torturous. There are several tanks inside the lab that are used for especially sick or injured mer, but luckily no one’s needed it this year. They still need to be drained and cleaned regularly though--which falls to the young interns. Yay. 

It takes nearly the whole day to clean just one, and that’s with Hunk and Pidge’s help. Which means he only gets an hour to put blood samples under the scope to check for illnesses and parasites. They’re not even the slides he wants to look at. Keith’s is at the end of the list and Holt has this thing about doing things in order, so nothing gets skipped. An obnoxious trait he passed onto his daughter. 

When it’s time to clock out, he’s exhausted. It’s only day one. He’s gotta do this for a week?! Ugh, he’s not looking forward to the Orca mer tank. That one’s going to take two days, he’s sure. 

That said, he is looking forward to those couple of hours to pore over the blood samples. Once he has them all cataloged, he can finally study Keith’s. Then he’ll be that much closer to completing his thesis.

Finished with his work, Lance walks down the paved path towards the checkpoint but stops halfway. The bay always looks so beautiful in the day. A quick peek in the middle of the night might be nice. Surely he can spare a few minutes before heading home for bed. He changes direction and makes his way through the trees towards the water.

The bay is vacant. Most mer won’t sleep on the beach unless they’re certain it’s safe. And even though the sanctuary has an unblemished record of mer safety, there isn’t a single mer out there. They must all be in the submerged caves that Holt had built fifteen years ago, complete with air-pocketed ones for the Dolphinians. 

Lance leans on a tree in the shadows and scans the shoreline with a content sigh at the beautiful sight of dark waves lapping gently on the shore. The moon is reflected on the water, and warm winds gently rustle the trees. 

Reminds him of home. So calm and relaxing. The floating docks bob on the waves. All empty--except for one.

Keith is on his float. Awake and laying on his back with his hands behind his head and looking up at the stars. He’s humming, no, singing quietly to himself. Quien Sera again. He must really like that song.

“Can’t blame him. It’s a good song,” Lance quietly chuckles. 

It sounds like he’s practicing it because he keeps stopping with a huff and starting over like he’s trying to nail the tune perfectly. A minute later, Keith lets out another huff and rolls over onto his stomach. He then begins rapping his knuckles on the float in boredom.

Is he waiting for someone? Maybe a prospective mate? 

Lance waits a few moments and looks down the bay. No disturbances in the water. It’s late, and all the mer are resting. So no late-night meetings with a to-be mate. 

Why doesn’t he just go to sleep then?

Keith looks up at the treeline and scans. Seeing nothing, he sighs and rolls over again, letting out a bored groan. Wait, the treeline? The only thing at the treeline is humans. Is Keith waiting for...

“...me?” Lance wonders, his chest tingling at the thought.

Suppose there’s one way to find out.

Lance stomps his way further down the treeline, making more noise than necessary to get Keith’s attention. It works because Keith bolts right up and looks his way. He finally spots Lance just as he breaches the last line of trees and lights up with an excited look.

That smile. Keith was definitely waiting for him; even though Lance told him he might not make it. That he’d be working late and not to expect him. Keith waited anyway. That warms his heart in ways he knows it shouldn’t. 

Lance sends a friendly wave his way, and Keith dives off his float. Seconds later he’s in the shallows and climbing up the beach to meet him in the sand. This mer would never have willingly approached a human a month ago. Sometimes he still won’t, unless it’s Lance. 

Why does that make him happy too?

Keith gestures to him ‘goodnight’ which Lance has learned also means ‘good evening’. A nighttime hello. Lance signs it back and takes a seat in the sand with a sigh. Keith snorts and gestures at Lance to tease him with a sharp smirk. 

Tired. Ugly tired eyes. Like a dead fish. Lance is a dead fish. The insult makes Lance shove him with a laugh.

“You’d have fish corpse eyes too if you spent all day under bright lights and scrubbing an aquarium tank clean,” Lance complains, but Keith just blinks at him. He searches his language archives for a few words that’ll work here. “ _Hard work. Lots. Eat today? Back feeling good?_ ”

Keith nods and signs as he looks Lance over for the items he’s started asking for each time they meet. Signs that Lance is becoming more and more familiar with. Drawings? Books? Music?

“Sorry, no drawings or books today,” Lance shakes his head. “It’s so dark you couldn’t see anything anyway. But--” he digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps his Pandora app before signing and speaking to Keith at the same time. “ _One song. Home. Sleep._ ”

The mer shakes his head. ‘Wrong gesture’ Keith tells him and proceeds to correct Lance’s signing.  Lance truly thought for a second that he actually messed up but then Keith signs. He says that Lance meant ‘Five song’, surely? Lance snorts out laughter at that. 

“No,” he tries to say without smiling but fails. “ _One song_ ,” he says again, signing it too.

Keith apologizes and corrects himself. He amends his sign, and Lance laughs again when he just changes it to ‘three song’ instead. Big, tough, scary merman is trying to bargain his way into getting more music than Lance has time for. It’s...kinda adorable.

Damn it. He’s not supposed to think Keith is adorable. 

Lance reminds himself about his professionalism and steels himself into denying Keith what he wants. But then Keith adds in a ‘please’ and ‘so bored today’ with dramatic emphasis, and Lance’s will begins to crumble. 

“God, you’re so pushy,” Lance rolls his eyes but gives in. “Fine. _Three song. Home. Sleep,_ ” he speaks and signs.

No more objections from Keith. He just gives out that victorious smirk and takes a seat in the sand with Lance. 

They listen to three songs on the station. All of them are Latin songs, but none of them is the one Keith was practicing. He doesn't seem to mind. Keith just closes his eyes throughout, tilting and swaying his head with the music while Lance hums. Lance’s eyes dart over to him periodically with a smile. 

This is nice. Nothing wrong with this, right? Just two dudes sitting on a beach and listening to music one foot apart because they’re just friends. Just...friends.

Near the middle of the third song, Keith yawns wide, showing his gleaming white teeth. That’s when Lance notices that Keith is starting to nod off. He’s just as tired as Lance is. As soon as the song is over, Lance closes the app and pockets the phone. 

Keith sits up, suddenly alert again now that the music is gone. He signs out that they aren’t done as Lance clearly miscounted. They have one more to go. At least, that’s what he tries to pull, but Lance isn’t falling for it this time. It’s late, and he’s too tired to play this game with Keith.

“ _Three done. Sleep_ ,” Lance says, yawning himself. 

Keith frowns, not pleased but nods with a disappointed puff of air vented out of his gills. Gestures out a ‘fine’ and ‘repeat’ as a question. He wants to know if he’ll come back tomorrow. Lance sighs and shrugs before cracking his neck.

“I don’t know. It’ll be late, and I’ll be tired,” Lance tries to tell him but Keith’s waiting for an answer he can understand. “ _Maybe,”_ he decides. _“Goodnight, Keith. Sleep well._ ”

Lance gives his shoulder a friendly pat before standing. He makes his way back up to the treeline, and within minutes he’s gone from Keith’s sight. Only then does Keith dive back into the water, swimming deeper until he hits the sandy bed under his platform. He curls his tail around the anchor of the float as he settles in. 

He knew Lance would show sooner or later. Not sure how he knew, he just did. With that, he closes his eyes, contentedly breathing in the ocean as Lance’s music dances through his dreams.

*****

When Lance makes it back to the house, everyone is asleep. Pidge is passed out on the couch, leg hanging off and music still pulsing through her battered laptop speakers. Lance clicks it off and tosses a blanket over her before entering the guest room he shares with Hunk, tugging off his shirt as he enters and abandoning it to the floor as he crosses to his bed. 

Hunk’s already snoring loudly in his own bed across the way, papers and reports sharing his covers and tucked under his pillow. Before they can get rolled over on, Lance tugs as many as he can out and tidies them into a stack. He puts them under Hunk’s camera bag and then drops into his own bed with a sigh.

Lance finds himself smiling as he rolls to face the wall. 

Keith waited for him. No one’s ever--Lance shakes his head. Stop. He can’t be thinking like this.

 “He’s your friend, ‘course he likes you,” Lance tells himself with a scolding tone. “But he doesn’t _like_ you.”

Keith just missed his friend. His  _only_ friend that isn’t family. Of course, he waited up for Lance. 

Probably looks forward to hanging out with one of the few people who isn’t terrified of him. A person who doesn’t treat him like he’s broken. Someone who likes him just the way he is, no changes necessary.

He thinks all those things to explain away why Keith did that and yet...he still falls asleep with a smile on his face and Keith’s gentle hum swimming in his ears.

*****

Lance visits Keith every night during the week. 

Sometimes it's well after midnight and he's dog tired to the point of passing out, but he still manages to trudge his way down the treeline to the bay. And every time, Keith is waiting for him on his float. Bored look on his face that lights up with excitement at the sight of Lance walking towards him. He still insults Lance, tells him he looks terrible, but it's done without malice. Lance just insults him right back and flings sand or water into his face before he takes his seat. 

They argue about how many songs they have time for and every time they end up listening to more than Lance initially suggests. He’s a merman. It's not like he’s got a phone he can use all times of the year like Lance does. Best to give him these things that he won’t get otherwise. Right? 

It’s the right thing to do-- a nice thing he’d do for any of his friends. But besides that...Lance finds he doesn’t mind giving in to Keith’s demands.

On Thursday, Lance actually falls asleep on the beach while they listen. Far too exhausted to even last through the second song. He only jolts awake with a gasp when water laps against his toes. 

How long has he been out? He almost barks a complaint Keith’s way for not waking him up once the songs were over. He could have drowned, you know? Only he finds Keith asleep in the shallows too. It’s clear he’s just as tired as Lance is so he can’t be too angry. 

Lance decides to wake the mer before he goes (because it’d be kind of a dick move to just leave him there), but he stares for a prolonged period first. 

Keith’s resting his head on his arms, his long tail swaying in the water as he dreams. Ocean up to his elbows showing that they’d been asleep for nearly an hour. Lance watches with wonder at the rise and fall of his body as he breathes softly. Ends of his hair wet from the rising tide. Thick lashes and parted lips and--

Enough of that.

Lance clears his throat and snaps a few times until Keith’s eyes flutter open sleepily. 

“ _Song done. Sleep_ ,” Lance says as Keith yawns.

No arguments this time. Keith just blinks groggily, checks the tide, and then nods in agreement. Looks like he’s going to head out, but he sits up first. Signs with his hands. Repeat? Tomorrow?

Lance has long given up trying to get Keith to stop waiting up late for him. Especially when he’s so endearingly adamant about showing. When Lance doesn’t immediately answer his question, Keith repeats his gestures a little more slowly and clearly. He must have thought Lance didn’t understand.

“Sure,” Lance nods with a chuckle. ‘Repeat tomorrow’ he signs back.

At that, Keith pumps his fist in tired victory. Then tells Lance goodnight before crawling back into the ocean to sleep under his float. Lance, in turn, trudges his way back to Holt abode. 

His intention is to crash into his borrowed bed smelling of the beach with sand still sticking to his face. He can always shower in the morning. Instead, he drops into his desk and turns on the small lamp, turning it away, so it doesn’t wake Hunk in his bed. 

Then he starts drawing.

Keith lounging on the beach, slowly being submerged by the ocean. Laying on his side, head resting on his arm. Ear fin pointed high. That onyx black hair curled around his cheeks. Claws drawing swirls in the sand. Beautiful stormy eyes raking over the viewer with an inviting smirk. 

Lance swallows and klunks his face onto the table with a groan. Not again. He tears the picture out and puts it in with the others. If Keith ever actually looked at him like _that_ he’d--that thought sends a pleasant shiver down his back. 

They need a group activity--something to do with a lot of people so he’s not spending so much time alone with Keith. That’s probably why this keeps happening. All this alone time--makes it feel like he’s going on late night dates with Keith. Then an idea occurs to him.

Didn’t Holt want them to set up some cameras? Near the Dolphinian hunting grounds? One of the scientists in the lab was studying hunting tactics, but since she’s about two weeks out from giving birth, she can’t exactly post the cameras herself. The interns could do it with a little help from their mer friends.

Yeah, that’s what they’ll do. Maybe they can even do a little speargun fishing when finished. That’s perfect, actually. He can invite the Dolphinians along with Keith and maybe get them to be a little more friendly to each other. That way, when the migration is over, Keith will at least have some mer acquaintances that aren’t afraid of him.

He resolves to do it. It’s what’s best for Keith. With that, he closes his sketchbook and falls face-first into his bed for a good night's rest.

*****

Keith sleeps well into the morning under his floating platform, his tail curled around the anchor. Normally, the sun would wake him the moment it rises, but all these late nights have been ruining him. Makes him extra tired and more than a little cranky, but he wouldn’t give up those few minutes of music with Lance--er, his friend--for anything. It’s the only fun part of his day this past week.

He suddenly remembers that Lance should be back to his usual schedule tomorrow. Good news for his sleep cycle, but that means no more late-night music sessions. Hopefully, Lance will start taking his lunches down at the beach, and he’ll bring his music then. Oh and books too!

Though for now, he can catch up on some much-needed sleep.

Before he can drift back to sleep, a sound pulses and clicks through the water. Keith’s eyes open, recognizing the words. Red one. Galra. 

Is someone calling for him? Sounds like...Dolphinians. What do they want now?

Keith stretches and cracks several bones before floating towards the top. His head and hands breach the surface, grip the float, and pull himself up in one smooth movement. From there, he sees several familiar Dolphinians waving at him as they draw closer. He just furrows his brow with a mix of confusion and uncertainty as they stop a good thirty feet from his float.

“ _Red One!_ ” One waves.

“ _Keith, his name is Keith,_ ” another reminds her. “ _The humans say it’s better to use his name. More polite._ ”

“ _Oh, right. Keith!_ ” she tries again. “ _Tomorrow, the young humans are going to the atolls to put their picture toys up. To watch us hunt for their study stuff._ ”

Keith just tilts his head, uncertain why this pertains to him at all. He’s not Dolphinian. It’s not like the humans are going to study his lone hunting tactics. He doesn’t even go out to the far reefs to do his hunting. It’s too dangerous to go on his own.

“ _We’re going to show them the best spots and then after we’re going to have a contest,_ ” the leader Kayleen reveals. 

A contest? Something about that piques his interest a little.

“ _Humans versus mer to see who can catch the most fish!_ ” says a young girl. “ _They are going to lose so bad!_ ”

“ _You know it!_ ”

“ _Especially if we have you on our team, Red--er, Keith,_ ” says Kayleen. “ _Want to help us thrash these landwalkers?_ ”

They want him to join them? Keith’s not sure what to say to that. He’s never been on a team before. Feels...weird to be included. In anything. He averts his eyes as he looks pensively towards the shore. 

The group of older humans is up in the treeline at their tent, chatting away. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge are nowhere in sight. Likely at home sleeping to catch up on those late nights without it...like Keith wants to be doing right now. 

 “ _We could always use another mer to get some bigger hauls,”_ Markis hints.

 _“Maybe tuna! Can you imagine? Our little group getting a big tuna by ourselves?”_ another clicks with excitement. “ _My father might beach himself if we catch something bigger than he’s ever caught_ ,” she laughs.

“ _So want to be on our team, Keith?_ ” Kayleen asks.

Keith just shrugs with an uncertain look; it’s the closest to an answer he can give them. 

“ _Is that a maybe?_ ” one of them asks. 

Keith nods, and the others click with excitement. Saying things about how they’re certain to win with Keith on their side. All that speed? The landwalkers won’t stand a chance!

They keep talking and talking, so Keith just slips off the float and goes back down to his sleeping spot. He’s still tired, and if he wants to know more about this contest thing, he’ll just ask his human friends about it later. 

*****

Hunk is the one that actually tells Keith about the fishing contest later that evening. He’s there to keep Pidge company as she takes her video logs of the Alteans. It’s easier to record the flashes of their bioluminescent scales when it’s a little darker in the day, and he does a little translating for her when she has questions of the mer. Keith doesn’t mind sitting with them as long as he can stay in the water.

Hunk’s Aquan isn’t perfect, but Keith has an easier time understanding him than when Pidge or Lance make attempts. He explains that the reason for that is his native language has some phonological similarities to the Dolphinian dialect of Aquan. Put simply, most of the Aquan words are naturally easier for his mouth to say than the others of their group, so he’s picked it up a little better. Give him a few years, and he’ll be speaking it better than the oldest Holt. 

“ _We will go to the reefs on the south side of the island,_ ” Hunk says while showing Keith a laminated map. “ _Colleen, Pidge’s mom, will captain the_ **_Hespera_** _. Sam has to stay here, but we can set up these cameras without him_.”

Hunk offers one to Keith, and the half Galra takes it. He turns it over in his claws to inspect it. 

A diving camera. Keith’s seen them before at the Kyushu sanctuary. Shiro told him they were for recording the mer and their habits. To keep track of them and their health.  

He never much liked the idea of the cameras. Like being watched by an unseen predator. Made his quills stand on end to think someone could be breaking him down and discovering his weaknesses. So he avoided swimming in front of them to keep humans from knowing of his existence. Even broke a few because that’s what his mother told him to do. To hide his presence from those who would poach them.

But ever since he started playing around with Lance’s phone, he’s finding he doesn’t care as much. At least, he doesn’t care too much about cameras if they belong to the scientists. Any others though...he’d probably break them just to be safe. This one has a symbol on it that he’s seen before on the bay’s little emergency dinghy, so at least he’ll know these ones are safe. He returns it to Hunk and who puts it back in his bag.

“ _Question, Keith_ ,” Hunk starts. “ _Do you have signs for names? How would you say our names with your hands?_ ”

Keith’s about to show him one when someone yells ‘hey!’ from the treeline. They turn to look and find it’s Lance. He runs down the beach and plops down into the sand next to Hunk.

“Sorry I’m late. I was writing the forward on my paper. What’d I miss?”

“Told Keith about the cameras and fishing contest tomorrow. He’s down to go,” Hunk says. “And I was just asking him what his signs are for our names.”

“Oh, I know this one,” Lance says. “This--” he gestures out a symbol near his face. A closed fist tapping his open mouth, then curling up and out. “--means you, Hunk. It’s like ‘big’ and ‘laugh’ at the same time.”

Hunk laughs at that. It seems very appropriate. He comments that it’s not unlike the way the deaf come up with signed names. Then he asks Keith what Pidge’s is. 

Keith shows him a hand curved into a small crescent, like the letter ‘C’.  Then taps that symbol to each eye.

“What did he call me?” Pidge frowns, adjusting her glasses. “Four eyes? Because I don’t care if he’s twelve feet long and six hundred pounds, I’ll kick his--”

“Mooneyes,” Lance reveals, and she stops. “Because your glasses reflect light. Like the moon.”

“That’s...acceptable,” Pidge says while adjusting her spectacles. She then smiles. “Better than four eyes, anyways. Who knew Keith was so poetic?”

“And yours, Lance?” Hunk asks curiously. “Is it a dig on your long skinny legs?”

“Hey, for your information it’s not,” Lance huffs, flinging sand at Hunk’s belly. “I told him that my name starts with an ‘L’ and that an ‘L’ looks like this--” he demonstrates with his thumb and forefinger creating the shape. “So my sign is--”

Lance points to Keith, and he signs it out. Uses his right hand to make the ‘L’ shape. He puts the thumb of that hand to the flat palm of his left, dragging it down in a zigzag. Like he’s writing or drawing with it. 

“Cool, right?” Lance smirks proudly. “Mine’s all artistic.”

“Brag a little more Lance, we can’t tell how proud you are,” Pidge rolls her eyes with a smirk. “Oh, hey. What’s Keith’s sign for himself?”

“I uh...don’t know,” Lance shrugs. “He only ever refers to himself by pointing to himself.”

“ _Do you have a sign for your own name?_ ” Hunk asks Keith.

Keith just blinks in confusion and shakes his head. He signs out a few words. 

“‘Don’t need’,” Lance reveals the meaning. “Probably because he can hear and we can speak, he doesn’t need a sign for his own name. ”

“Give me your phone, Lance,” Pidge gestures and Lance hands it over. 

After a few minutes of google searching, she tosses the phone back. Then she asks Hunk to translate as she addresses Keith. Keith’s eyes are drawn to her little hands because finally she’s put down her equipment and that rarely ever happens.

“Your name is Keith so...in ASL the symbol for ‘K’ is this,” Pidge tells him and shows the gesture. “And this--” she taps her teeth, “--is teeth. So, if we do the ‘K’ and tap it to your teeth, it’ll mean ‘Keith’. K-teeth makes Keith. Sound good?”

Keith watches her do the first gesture again and mimics it. An odd sign for his hand to do because of the webbing between his fingers, but it’s possible. He taps the hand sign to his mouth and cheers erupt with applause. They all do the sign and point to him making the mer smile a little.

“You know, Keith has a sign like that one,” Lance says. “The tapping one. Means ‘smile’ I think.”

“Suits him,” Hunk chuckles. “He’s always grinning when he’s causing trouble.”

Keith never thought to give himself a sign for his own name. No one talks to him in his signed language because they’re all capable of speech. But it’s kinda nice having others use his system too. Makes him feel validated. Like learning his gestures isn’t a waste of time. 

Like _he_ isn’t a waste of time. 

Is this what having friends is like? Having people willing to learn with you and that enjoy just being in your presence? Weird that he’d find that with humans and not with his own kind. Weird that he’d feel far more at ease around them than the other mer. Like he belongs with them.

But his long fin with thick scales and lateral spines reminds him otherwise. His clawed fingers and sharp teeth and gill slits set him decidedly apart from them. He’s not human. And he never will be. Daydreaming of a life with them...Shiro would tell him it’s foolish.

Someone nudges him, forcing him to look up from his webbed fingers. Lance makes a gesture at him. Asking him if he’s okay. Keith ventilates a huff of air through his gills like he’s clearing his throat and nods. He’s fine. Just thinking about tomorrow.

“That’s right,” Hunk hums. “Keith’s gonna be on the Dolphinian’s team tomorrow.”

“Really?” Lance asks with a proud grin. “That’s great! Finally, he’ll have a few mer friends.”

“He could definitely do better than us weird mermaid nerd misfits,” Pidge snorts and returns to her equipment. “And hey, maybe he’ll even bond with them. Become an official member of their pod since the Koi aren’t all that keen on him.”

“Think so?” Lance wonders. 

“Sure,” Hunk nods. “Dolphinians are more likely to take unrelated mer species into their pods than any other. I saw a whole report on a pod of Dolphinians at the Cape of Good Hope sanctuary that had several odd species integrated into their family structure.”

Hunk goes on and on about the pod. Lead by a leader Dolphinian named Tarin. The group started out as a Dolphinian pod that was half wiped out by a big storm. An Orcan pod suffered much the same fate; only they lost a lot of their older mer. Tarin extended a temporary offer to join their pod so they’d survive the coming year. 

Only the offer became permanent after the group stayed together for several years. Some of the Dolphinians and Orcans even merged families. Years later, they picked up an older humpback couple that was done having children but was having trouble finding safe waters. They became surrogate parents for young mer in the group who lost their parents. 

They became a whole big pod full of different Cetacean mer. The first of its kind.

As if that weren’t odd enough, word spread among the merfolk and more petitioned to join them. Lepisichthys types--scaled bony fish in the same family of Koi, Galra, and Carp--joined the family.  And then Elasmobrach types--Shark and Sawfish mer--came next. Odd since Elasmobrach types are fairly solitary and don’t typically work well with others. But according to Hunk, they’ve managed it for the past thirty years without incident under Tarin’s leadership. 

Last checked the pod was at least sixty-five mer spanning nine different species complete with several mixed-race mer children as a result of their unions. 

As interesting at the conversation is (and Lance does find it extremely interesting) he notices that Keith’s looking bored with their chatter. Lance digs his phone back out of his pocket, unlocks it, and discretely passes it over to Keith who brightens considerably once it’s in his hands. It gives him something to do without feeling like the odd man out while Lance inquires further about this cultural marvel of a family group. 

A pod like that would be perfect for Keith. 

They’d be accepting of his mixed lineage since it’s full of mixed-race mer. He’d have plenty of Lepisichthys mer that he could partner with too to continue his family line. Sure, he could mate with any mer, but if he doesn’t do so with another scaled species, he’ll likely end up with sterile offspring. And that’s not great for keeping his nearly extinct bloodline alive.

“A shame it’s so far away,” Lance frowns. 

“Yeah, Keith could never make that trip alone to join them,” Hunk sighs. “Lone mer like that, traveling thousands of miles? He’d get picked off by sharks in no time.”

Despite the disappointment in the air, Keith’s excitement can’t be dampened with the phone in his possession. He taps the little images on the screen with a smirk. 

He’s come to recognize that certain ones do certain things. One of them does music. Others show pictures Lance has taken. One does a game. Another plays videos. 

Lance showed him a video of a weird animal he called a goat the other day. He'd never seen such a strange thing before. Especially weird that it would fall over when scared. 

Keith’s not sure why but the sight of the animal falling over made him roll with laughter. He kept pointing at the goat and then Lance, signing ‘it’s you!’ over and over, in reference to their first meeting. He must have watched it eight times before Lance finally took the phone back fighting back the desire to laugh too.

Keith taps a new button in curiosity, and his own face shows up on the screen. He blinks with curious interest and turns his head down to the phone in his lap to look at himself. With a clawed hand, he brushes his bangs aside and peers at his face. He experiments with another button, and it takes a picture with a snap. Before he can admire the shot, he hears Lance snort next to him.

“No, no, no,” Lance shakes his head with a chuckle. “Bad angle. Take it from up--hold on. _Let me show._ ”

Lance takes the phone and demonstrates proper selfie protocol then shows the result. Even shows Keith all the filters he can do afterward to change the picture. Looks really good. Flattering even. Much better than Keith’s attempt admittedly. 

Keith huffs and makes impatient grabby hands for the phone, so he can try again. Lance hands it back and lets Keith go to town taking new pictures of himself the right way. The trio of humans laughs a little at the response.

“He’s probably never really seen himself other than in the reflection of calm waves,” Hunk guesses. “That and your drawings.”

“Would he be the first mer to snap a selfie?” Lance asks. 

“No,” Pidge snorts and returns to her recording equipment. “Dolphinians have been doing that since we made underwater cameras. They love taking and seeing pics of themselves. If they made photographs that could withstand the ocean, Dolphinians would keep albums,” she jokes.

“I wouldn’t let any of the Dolphinians play with your phone, Lance,” Hunk tells him. “Sure it’s got an Otterbox, but you still might never see it again.”

“Good to know,” Lance nods.

Keith beams a big grin and grunts a noise at Lance. He waves the phone, gesturing for him to look. With great pride, he shows the picture he took. It’s of himself, but Keith made sure to include them in the background. 

“Hey that’s...not bad,” Lance admits. “Candid shot of us behind him.”

“Uh huh,” Pidge nods, barely paying attention.

“ _Do another one, Keith_ ,” Hunk tells him. “ _This time we’ll smile with you._ ”

Keith nods his understanding. He shimmies in a little closer to them to make sure they all fit. 

“Everyone in for another photo,” Hunk announces and hooks an arm around Pidge. “You too, Pidge.”

“Ugh, fine,” Pidge sighs and shuts down her recording equipment. “Just one though, sun's gonna set soon. We need to head back if we want to get enough sleep for the thing tomorrow.”

“ _One, Keith,_ ” Lance tells him. “ _Then home._ ”

Keith nods to show he understands.  He raises the phone high and angles it like Lance taught him. 

Hunk has his wide smile, his hand on his friends’ shoulders. Pidge with her little smirk and adjusting her glasses like a nerd. Lance has got that debonair smile he does for all his selfies, playing it up with a finger gun cradling his chin. And Keith finishing up with a toothy grin. He snaps it and fiddles around with the filters before handing it back to Lance to share with the others.

Keith asks if it looks good. Lance nods and relays the question to the others. Hunk assures him it’s a great shot. That it’s very well done. Makes them look like a squad. A team. 

It’s time to say their goodbyes for the day, but before they go, Keith snaps to get their attention. They all turn and watch as he gestures something out. 

The words are unfamiliar to Lance, which means the others have no idea what he’s saying/asking either. Keith catches on that they’re at a loss and searches for another solution by pantomiming what he wants like Lance used to do. He hits his knuckles together and looks up at the standing humans with a hopeful look.

“A fight?” Lance wonders. “Argument?”

“Oh, no that’s--” Hunk points with understanding. “That’s a fist bump. He must have seen us doing that at one point.”

“Does he want to know what it means?” Pidge asks. 

“Dunno,” Hunk shrugs. “ _A gesture of friendship and support,_ ” he explains to Keith. “ _Also to celebrate victory._ ”

Keith nods and points to them all. Lance recognizes the sign ‘friend’ before he offers his closed fist.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Pidge shrugs. “Go team venture,” she says with a smirk and bumps Keith’s wet knuckles with her own making him smile.

He offers his fist to the rest of them too. Impatiently shakes it at them. Hunk gives him a fist bump next and waves his goodbye. Lance is the last to give him one with a bit of a crooked smile. 

“Night Keith,” Lance tells him. “ _Sleep well. See tomorrow. Good luck._ ”

Keith gives him a haughty look and signs something that looks vaguely rude with his rolling eyes. Maybe something to the effect of not needing luck. It ends in Keith pointing at the three of them and giving them a definitive thumbs down. They don’t need words to know what Keith’s declaring. 

“Oh ho ho, **we’re** going down are we?” Lance snorts, crossing his arms with Hunk and Pidge at his sides with their own proud looks. “We’ll see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Out of curiosity, how many of you read on mobile versus computer? I've always wondered...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of love to my betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, Edhelwen and AndrewRose! Thank you for all your hard work and great input!

**"Hark, now hear the sailors cry,  
** **smell the sea, and feel the sky  
** **let your soul & spirit fly,   
** **Into the mystic."**

\--Van Morrison   
  


They are reminded sternly by Mrs. Holt that the scuba equipment they are using is very expensive. So please  _ please  _ **_please_ ** take very good care of it. But more importantly than that, they need to take care of each other. The ocean is a dangerous place.

“The gear can be replaced and so can the cameras,” she says. “But  _ you  _ can’t be. So look out for each other?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Matt nods then looks to the others. “We will.”

“Tell your little mer friends the same,” she insists. “Safety first. Fun later.”

“Yeah, you try telling that to a Dolphinian teenager,” Matt snorts while elbowing Hunk who laughs in agreement. 

Lance shifts impatiently in his scuba gear while looking over the edge of the  _ Hespera _ . 

He’s ready to jump in, but the Dolphinians and Keith aren’t there yet. That gives Mrs. Holt plenty of time to school them in proper technique and remind them to check their displays often. Once they have all their cameras in place, they can return to the boat for their fishing equipment. 

Do they have their diving knives? Of course, they do. And what about--

“We got it, mom,” Pidge huffs with annoyance. “We’re not going off to war, you know?”

“I know,” she says just as a series of splashes signifies the arrival of their guests. “Just trying to keep you safe.”

Lance looks over the edge again to find Kayleen waving at him and clicking. Markis and Lorna are there too. He scans the nearby area looking for the last member of their group, hoping he didn’t change his mind. 

That familiar spiked dorsal breaches the surface far off, making a beeline for the boat at those lightning speeds Keith is a fan of. He comes to an abrupt stop with a sharp turn, his head popping out of the water a good couple of yards away from the Dolphinian pod. He shoots Lance an acknowledging nod when their eyes meet.

“Looks like everyone is here,” Hunk says, counting them all. “Kayleen. Markis. Lorna. And Keith, of course.”

“He really came,” Matt hums with surprise. “Huh. Alright. Let's head down to the reefs then.”

They put their regulators into their mouths and make sure the buoyancy compensators are half-filled. They place their hands on their masks to keep them firmly in place. Then one at a time, they take a big stride right off the deck and into the deep water with a splash. The lot of them give Mrs. Holt the okay signal and dive down with their finned friends.

The mer are a wonder to look at normally but underwater they’re even more amazing. The way their bodies undulate and their fins push them forward with such force is awe-inspiring.  It’s easy to forget how much muscle there is to them. No wonder they have to eat as much as they do to keep that great strength up. Several times the mer have to double back because they’re so much faster than their human cohorts.

Keith is… amazing to behold in his element. 

While the Dolphinians are pretty fast, Keith swims circles around all of them. Zooms under and over them, the spikes of his fins coming dangerously close to touching them but then he does a sharp turn and avoids them completely. If he wanted to take them all out, Keith would have no trouble doing so, without a doubt.

“So glad he’s on our side,” Pidge comments into her regulator mic.

There’s something beautiful and terrifying about watching an apex predator mer swim. It’s far different from a Dolphinian or a Koi. Like a creature who’s never relaxed. 

No one gets behind Keith and if they do, they won’t for long. He makes sure he can see everyone at all times, frequently changing his angles so he can keep an eye on their surroundings. No one’s gonna get the drop on Keith. Lance guesses it comes from hunting alone for so long. Hypervigilance has probably saved his life more than once.

Keith swims leisurely underneath their little group and looks up at them. He makes a silly face at Lance which has him laughing bubbles out of his regulator. He gestures to Keith, telling him to cut that out or he’ll waste his air. Keith agrees to desist, for now, but assures Lance that he won’t take mercy on him later once they’re beachside. 

The reefs soon come into view. 

Atoll reefs are commonplace where volcanic islands are found. They used to be islands too, thousands of years ago, but the land eroded away, leaving a small lagoon inside. If they were looking at them from the air, they’d look like large almost perfect circles. 

There are three here in a grouping not unlike the constellation of Orion’s Belt. It’s a huge ecosystem housing fish, crustaceans, and mollusks--a smorgasbord hunting ground. 

Markis taps on Pidge’s arm and points to a good spot. A little area where the camera will fit without being easily dislodged by small fish. She goes about setting it up while Hunk follows Lorna to the next atoll. 

Kayleen gestures for Lance to follow her so she can take him to the furthest reef in the other direction. Keith, not knowing where to go and not wanting to sit there by himself, decides to go with them. He follows alongside Lance, looking bored as they travel.

Slow, Keith signs to him. Humans are so slow, he tells Lance. Lance just laughs a little and apologizes for being a slow human. He was kinda born that way, so Keith’s either gonna have to ‘go ahead and wait’ or ‘slow down’ to keep time with him.

Keith frowns at Lance’s gestures. Waiting is not his strong suit, and he hates going slow.

That’s when Lance feels hands on his own. Keith places Lance’s hands to the very base of his tail right above his fin. Makes sure he’s holding tight but not on any of his sharp spines. That look of confusion on Lance’s face doesn’t last long before he catches Keith’s impish smirk.

“Oh shit,” Lance bubbles out of his respirator just as Keith takes off, dragging Lance by his tail. 

It’s much quicker, and if Lance could he’d probably scream, but instead, he focuses all his energy on holding on for dear life.  With the extra weight, Keith isn’t as fast, but it’s still much faster than Lance is used to. Even while dragging Lance, he easily keeps pace with Kayleen, and they reach the atoll together in minutes. 

Lance’s heart is pumping a million miles an hour when he lets go, but he manages to set up three different cameras in prime locations. They’ll have to come and pick them back up in a couple of days to review the footage, so he tries committing their spots to memory. 

“Cameras set on third atoll,” Lance tells the others through his mic. “Returning to the  _ Hespera  _ for fishing equipment, over.”

“Got it, over,” Pidge answers.

The swim back isn’t as jarring since Lance is a little more prepared for it--he holds on tight to Keith’s tail and braces himself for the speed. It’s exciting and a little frightening to be that fast, but he manages not to have a heart attack. He even enjoys it a bit. The others arrive a little later courtesy of not getting a lift from a huge fast merman.

Setup and rules for the fishing contest commence once everyone gets there. The humans switch to their snorkeling gear for ease of movement and grab their fishing equipment while they’re at it. Hawaiian slings for Pidge and Matt, pole spears for both Lance and Hunk, and catch bags for all of them.

Both humans and mer will do their fishing at the largest atoll. Both will have their own big floating cooler attached to an anchor to keep it from floating away. Whenever they catch anything, they are to put it in their respective cooler and in a few hours they’ll weigh who got the most fish. Easy as that. 

Matt explains to the mer that the black cooler is theirs and the blue one is the humans’ since writing it on the cooler wouldn’t really help as most mer don’t know how to read. He tells all of them, humans and mer, that his mom will be watching from her binoculars on the  _ Hespera _ . 

“She’ll make sure no one is taking fish from anyone else’s cooler… Lance,” Matt points accusingly.

“What?!” Lance objects and everyone laughs. “I come from a proud family of fisherman! Last thing I’d do is  _ cheat  _ at a fishing contest!”

“I just know how much you hate to lose,” Matt grins, and Lance glares.

“I’m gonna--”

“Calm down, Lance,” Hunk chuckles, patting his shoulder and holding him back from dunking Matt.  

They have a timer set up for how long they’ll fish for. With everyone set and ready, they begin. 

The humans work in pairs, just because it’s safer that way. The sibling team keeps to the higher parts of the atoll that are close to the surface. They can’t hold their breath nearly as long as Lance and Hunk can, a boon from living near the ocean all their lives. Because of that, they can dive deeper and get straight to hunting for the bigger and better catches.

Kayleen calls all the mer to follow her to the other side of the atoll. Keith follows her lead, excited at the prospect of winning a contest against the humans. 

The most common hunting technique for young Dolphinians is barrier rushing. At least, that’s what Kayleen calls it. They set up a wall of mer while someone rushes a school of fish into their direction. With the wall in their way, the fish have nowhere to go and end up snatched by the barrier Dolphinians. Then someone else takes the job of rushing the fish, switching out so that everyone gets a turn and everyone gets enough to eat. 

Keith’s never done it this way before, but he notices on the first rush that when they attempt it together they catch things far quicker than he does on his own. Smaller things but faster and with far less energy wasted

“ _ Never kept fish after catching them before, _ ” Lorna clicks as she firmly holds a yellowtail scad that Keith chased right into her hands. “ _ So weird to just… not eat it, _ ” she giggles as she snaps it’s head so that it stops trying to escape and hands it off to their leader. 

“ _ How many did you get, Markis? _ ” Kayleen asks as she loops a length of thin rope through their mouths and gills to keep the fish all together.

“ _ Two in that rush, _ ” he says and gives them to Kayleen.  “ _ And you got two too. So that makes five, and we barely started _ ,” he grins at the others. 

They do it twice more and end up adding another ten fish to the strand.

“ _ Keith, you take them to the buckets _ ,” Kayleen says and hands them off. “ _ You’re the fastest so you’ll get there and back in no time; meanwhile we’ll scout for the next area to do another rush. _ ”

Keith merely nods and takes the fish on the rope, quickly swimming to the coolers bobbing on the surface. The black one is theirs he remembers, so he opens it. He unties the knot in the rope and dumps the fish inside. Fifteen, and it’s only been twenty minutes. 

Out of curiosity, he peeks into the other cooler. Empty so far. But he has to remember how slow the humans are. They could have caught something, but they’re just not back yet with their haul. He closes the lids, makes sure he has the little rope and returns quickly to the others to continue their hunting. 

He rushes several more scad into the Dolphinians’s barrier. That’s another nine fish, but in Keith’s opinion, they’re a little small. The winning team will be decided by weight. Shouldn’t they try for something bigger than simple scads? Might take more energy, but a bigger risk means a bigger reward. Unfortunately, since the Dolphinians can’t understand him, he doesn’t bother trying to suggest that.

“ _ Wonder if the humans have caught anything yet? _ ” Lorna ponders when Keith returns after dumping off their second haul of fish. 

“ _ Did you see anything in their bucket, Keith? _ ” Markis asks.

Keith shakes his head, and they all frown a little.

“ _ Poor things _ ,” Lorna clicks and shakes her head. “ _ They’d never survive out here if they were mer, _ ” she adds. 

“ _ Let’s take a short break and give them a chance to catch up _ ,” Kayleen decides. “ _ I’m gonna look for some shrimp. Getting a little hungry out here. Meet up again after a breather. _ ”

Keith thinks to stay with them, but he wants to know how the humans are doing. He swims the perimeter of the atoll, looking at schools of fish and colorful coral as he searches for his human friends. 

He’s never been out to the atoll reefs before this. Plenty of food out here and most of it easy enough to catch with all these great ambush points. But it’s too far from the Sanctuary to go alone. If he got attacked out here, by sharks or poachers, no one would ever know he was even gone until it was too late. 

There, in the distance, he spots a shape. Actually, it’s two shapes, both with legs. Hunk and Lance he guesses from the tools they’re using. He approaches low and close to the reef, keeping out of their sight to get closer and observe them. 

They’re always watching the mer; now it’s his turn to study the landwalkers out of their realm.

He watches as they go up for air and dive again and again. Down, down, down. It’s surprising to see how far they can go and for how long. Humans aren’t known for being the best at holding their breath, not like the Dolphinians. Keith can’t believe they’d try hunting for something so far down. 

It’s slow going. Lance searches the nooks and crannies for a bit before going back up for air to try again. This time though, he immediately dives again with his pole spear at the ready. He loops the band, takes aim, waits, and releases it into a crevasse. Keith is shocked when Lance pulls out a fish. It must have been a perfect shot because it doesn’t flail or anything--instant kill. 

It looks big, but from his empty catch bag, it’s the only thing he’s caught since they started half an hour ago. Hunk’s got something in his bag, though. Looks like uku. Two of them. Guess they aren’t bad at fishing after all.

Keith returns to the others, but he has no way of telling them that Lance and the others are catching things. Relatively big things. He just resumes rushing fish into their barrier, hoping that their quick small hauls will outweigh the humans’ in time. 

When he goes to drop off their latest haul, Keith checks the human cooler. Inside is the parrot fish Lance nailed, along with the two snapper Hunk had. While the Dolphinian haul is still much larger, the human haul is far more appealing when it comes to flavor. Just as he closes the cooler someone comes up for air.

“Phew! Oh hey, Keith,” Pidge hums just as Matt breaches too. She opens her cooler and whistles. “Look at that parrot fish. Lance’s work.”

“Hmm, thought they’d have caught more by now,” Matt frowns. “I thought Lance was from a ‘proud fishing family’,” he jokes as he unloads two angelfish and a snapper.

“He’s probably trying to get something bigger instead of the easy catches,” Pidge rolls her eyes. “The show-off, he’s gonna make us lose.”

“ _ What did you all catch, Keith? _ ” Matt asks, and Keith opens their cooler. “Woah! It’s nearly full to the top with scad. Impressive.”

Pidge looks at her watch and groans. They only have about half an hour left before times up. They bid Keith goodbye and dive back down for some last-ditch efforts to fill their coolers. 

Keith takes his time getting back to the other mer. It’s not like they can lose at this point. He knows it, the Dolphinians know it. In fact, they’re so convinced that this contest is over that when Keith comes back with their rope they decide they’re done fishing. Instead, they’re gonna do some shell hunting in the reefs to pass the rest of the time. 

Keith spends his time creeping through the crevasses to look for some fish for himself to eat later. Maybe a decent-sized grouper. Or something that isn’t all that fast that he can sneak up on. That’s when he spots a better morsel and gets down low. 

Ulua. A big one too. It’s trying to get an easy meal of the shrimp and mollusks in the reef. This one's gotta be about almost a hundred pounds. If he can get that… he could not only feed himself but the Dolphinians too. On top of that, it would solidify their win against the humans with a crushing defeat.

But the thing is, they are pretty fast. And as big as it is, it can fit into smaller places that Keith can’t. It could get away if it spots him before he can get close enough. Then he’ll have wasted energy and lost the kill for nothing.  So he stalks it cautiously as it moves along the corals. 

Keith’s about to make his move when it catches wind of him. It bolts into the nearest crevasse, but it doesn’t get far. Not because Keith catches up to it but because there’s a spear of metal protruding from its face. Someone was hiding in the crevasse, waiting for it. The shot isn’t a good one though because the 100-pound fish thrashes and pulls and yanks the human on the other side of that pole spear.

It’s Lance, and he’s alone.

Damn it. Lance wishes he could scowl properly, but with the snorkel it’s impossible. 

He really wanted to catch this one but because it got spooked his aim was off.  Missed his stone shot. Now he needs to finish the job quickly if he wants to make it to the surface in time to breathe. Lance struggles to keep a hold on the spear as he pulls his dive knife, but a strong yank makes him lose hold of the blade, and it falls into the reef.

Shit, he’s gonna have to let this one go. It’s gonna run off with his spear, but there’s nothing for it now.

 He tries to let go, but the loop catches on his wrist. Then the fish pulls him down instead of up where he needs to go. Lance tries yanking back, hoping he’ll dislodge from the fish, but he doesn’t. It’s in too good.

Just as he’s about to panic something swooshes by and grabs hold of the fish. He thought it was a shark for a split second because it’s big, but then he sees it’s red and spiny too. It’s Keith, and he’s grabbing his fish.

Keith digs his clawed hand in through the gill flaps and wrenches right back out, snapping the fishes spine. It stops thrashing, allowing Lance to pull his hand from the loop. He immediately swims up and surfaces in time to get his gulps of air.

“Damn it,” Lance coughs. “That was… fucking stupid. Too close.”

Keith surfaces a moment later with the fish, the knife, and the pole spear. After handing over the weapons, Keith signs something out with a haughty grin. Lance shoves Keith’s shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

“Shut up,” Lance shakes his head with a smirk. “Three times you’ve saved me? Well, I fed your ass for over a week. That balances out at least one of those life debts.”

Keith gestures out a question, and Lance blinks in disbelief.

“Who gets the fish? Me!” Lance points at himself. “I shot it! If  **someone** hadn’t spooked it, then it would have been a perfect kill shot.  _ My fish, Keith, _ ” he says emphatically and gestures for Keith to hand it over.

Keith isn’t impressed by this. He proceeds to glare at him while holding onto the ulua. But then he blinks with an idea. 

His perturbed frown turns into a sad furrowed brow. Then into a hurt pout with averted eyes. It doesn’t take much for Lance to figure out his plan. Keith is trying to make Lance feel guilty about taking the fish. 

“Oh no no no,” Lance shakes a finger at him. “You can’t just make sad--I shot it! It was my--Stop that! No! No sad eyes!”

Keith dejectedly signs out ‘saved life’ and ‘killed fish’ and adds on a ‘not fair’ and ‘mean Lance’ at the end. He maintains that disappointed face as he clutches the big ulua to his chest like it’s a stuffed animal and Lance is a bully trying to take it from him. That’s when Keith shifts to a knowing smirk before signing out an alternative.  

‘Or we trade’ he gestures out as he points between them. 

“What? Trade? For what? I got nothin’!” Lance waves around him. “ _ Have nothing, Keith, _ ” he tells him.

Keith grins, showing his sharp teeth. He tells Lance what he wants with his hands. A number and--

“Thirty songs?!” Lance exclaims. “You want thirty?! For the kingfish?”

Lance tries to confirm using Keith’s sign language only to get more signs from Keith. These additional signs nearly make Lance choke in shock.

“Wait! For only half?!” Lance shouts in disbelief.

Lance groans, sinking in the water and blowing bubbles in annoyance. 

Thirty songs but for only half of the fish? He earned this fish damn it. Stalked it for almost twenty minutes. And Keith comes in and takes his kill? Though… guess he did help take it down, and he did save his life. Again. 

When he thinks about it that way… Keith definitely earned that whole fish and then some.

Thirty songs. That’s about two hours worth of music. Two hours of sitting with Keith on the beach again. He’s not opposed to doing that, but the reason he suggested this contest in the first place was so Keith would grow closer with his Dolphinian friends… not with Lance. 

Lance could take the deal and take his one step back, or he could use this as a chance to make Keith a hero in the Dolphinians’ eyes. He knows which one he should choose. It’s not what he wants, but it is the right thing to do.

“ _ Keith’s fish _ ,” Lance tells him with a resigned sigh. “ _ All Keith’s fish. _ ”

Keith looks a little surprised that Lance didn’t take him up on his deal. Didn’t he want to win?

Regardless, Keith looks down at the entire ulua and beams with excitement. It’s a big fish, and it will more than feed the mer team. Keith thanks him with a simple gesture, and the two of them swim back to the coolers together. When they get there, Pidge’s eyes bug out of her head at the fish in Keith’s hold.

“Holy shit! Look at that! Look at that!” Pidge gapes and shakes her brother at his shoulder. “LOOK!”

_ “Keith caught an ulua! _ ” Markis exclaims.  _ “Kayleen, he caught an ulua!” _

_ “You didn’t need to hunt something so big, Keith,” _ Lorna laughs and pats the top of the black cooler.  _ “We already beat them by a tidal wave.” _

“ _ That’s a good catch, Keith _ ,” Matt compliments. “ _ Are you going to eat that whole thing by yourself? _ ”

Keith shakes his head and swims the ulua over to Kayleen. He points to all of the Dolphinians and then to the fish. It’s clear enough that he’s going to share with them. The Dolphinians look shocked but pleased by this information. They click and laugh and jostle Keith with excitement, thanking him for all his hard work.

“ _ We should hunt together again, _ ” Kayleen suggests, and everyone nods in agreement. “ _ If we hunt Keith’s way we’ll get hauls bigger than this.” _

“ _ Tuna! _ ” Lorna squeals with glee. “ _ Catch a big tuna with us sometime, Keith?” _

Keith can’t remember the last time he had tuna. Before his mom died, at least. 

Tuna are big, and they’re fast. He knew he’d never be able to catch one on his own so he never tried. But now… maybe with help he could give it a try. 

“ _ Hunt with us again, Keith? _ ” Markis asks. 

“ _ You can teach us how to get the big ones! _ ” Lorna gestures wildly at the sizes she’s hoping for. “ _ A big fat tuna! _ ”

Why not? Hunting with others again sometime would make his life a little easier. So Keith shrugs and gives them a nod with a small smile. That makes the trio of Dolphinians erupt with happy clicking noises, splashes, and laughter.

Lance just looks on with a content smile, knowing that this is better for Keith in the long run than sitting on a beach listening to music for two hours. Finally, Keith can start to feel like he belongs with his people. 

With time, he’ll become a more productive member of the pods. The others will come to rely on him instead of shunning him. And then maybe one day… someone will present themselves to him as a partner. As a lifelong mate.

They pull the coolers aboard the  _ Hespera  _ for the trip back. The humans promise the mer that they’ll bring the fish down to the little bay dock so they can show off to the others in the Sanctuary. They can even have a little cookout of some of those fish. The lot of them can have dinner together on the beach in celebration.

The Dolphinians can’t wait and say they’ll be there waiting. So don’t be too late. They all swim together to the bay while Keith follows alongside the  _ Hespera _ . Matt offers to drop the ladder for him if he wants to ride up top with them, but he declines. He doesn’t like how vulnerable it makes him feel to be out of the water for too long. Lance looks over the railing as they sail, watching Keith’s red fin twirl as he does barrel rolls beside them. 

The summer migration is almost over, he thinks somberly. Will Keith come back next year? How different will he be then? 

Lance can see his hair growing longer. His tail too. New scars from shark fights but not as many with the backing of his new friends. Less sneaky troublemaking grins and more genuinely happy smiles. Perhaps he’ll sport a token around his neck from a paramour as a promise of future days. 

It’s what Keith deserves. Someone who will protect him as much as he protects them. Someone he can sing to and have them sing back with just as much eager longing. Someone who will always be by his side and adores him for who he is. 

As much as he feels an attachment to Keith… Lance knows that he can’t be that person. It hurts a little, like a bitter ache in his chest, but maybe it’s for the best that he figured this out now and not later. It won’t sting as bad when Keith leaves for the Kyushu sanctuary.

They’re friends. That should be enough. He shouldn’t chase after something more. 

Keith jumps from the water and waves to get Lance’s attention. When he’s got it, the mer spits a jet of water up at him trying to get him wet again. It brings him out of his stupor, and he laughs while blocking his face from the assault.

He can’t fight back now, but he promises Keith he’ll get him once they’re on the beach again. Sand and seaweed bombs. Keith just tells him to ‘bring it on’ with his hands and sharp grin. 

By the time they get to the Sanctuary, Sam has already set up a grill on the little dock right next to the underwater caves. The team brings down their huge haul of fish to show the others. There are Koi and Dolphinians surrounding the waters around the dock, waiting on bated breath to see who the winners are.

Sam announces that the Dolphinian team and Keith caught the most fish, including the large Ulua. This earns them some surprised looks but also applause and clicks of admiration.

The young Dolphinians all look extremely proud and talk at length about their victory. They share their large catch of yellowtail scad with their fellow mer, handing out fish to family and friends. Kayleen and Markis are especially giving to specific mer, possibly prospective mates in a couple years. 

Keith proceeds to chop up his ulua into hunks with his sharp claws and hands out morsels to his new friends and Shiro (who is extremely impressed with him and says as much). He adds on how proud he is of Keith working with others. Keith just shoves Shiro away and slaps him with his fin when the compliments get to be too much. 

The humans prepare and cook up the parrotfish Lance caught. Some mer watch with fascination as they cook their food. Others scoff at all the extra work they’re going through just to eat some fish. Once it’s finished cooking, the humans take their seats on the docks, their toes dipping into the water as they eat--delicious parrotfish grilled with garlic, onions, mushrooms, and Hunk’s super-secret pesto sauce. 

“It’s a family recipe,” Hunk tells them as they eat. “If you want it, you’ll have to marry into the family.”

“I’m tempted,” Matt jokes.

“Same,” Pidge says with a mouthful of fish. “Too good. Is there more?”

“Yup,” Hunk smiles and refills her plate.

Lance sits quietly for once. He’s eating his fish but staring out into the bay at Keith. 

His new Dolphinian friends are talking a million miles a minute about what they should do tomorrow. That they should all go back to the atolls bright and early to find something big to eat so they can play all day, maybe even go surfing again. Keith just slowly nods as they speak, not really able to contribute to the conversation beyond answering yes or no questions but at least willing to listen. 

He looks happy. Happier than he did when he first got there.

“Did you ever think that was gonna happen?” Hunk asks as he sits next to Lance. He gestures to Keith and the Dolphinians to clarify. “They were so scared of him before.”

“Yeah,” Lance nods with a soft smile.

“It’s thanks to you, you know?” Hunk says with a proud pat to his shoulder. “If you hadn’t tried to establish a rapport with him, he’d still be on his float hissing at anyone that came too close. No one wanted to know him until you did.”

There’s something sad about that. Shiro likely had nothing but good things to say about Keith, but it didn’t matter. No one was willing to breach Keith’s perimeter until Lance tried it. Because if Keith hurt a harmless human, it would justify all their misconceptions about him. It would mean they were right to push him to the outside because he was too dangerous to befriend. 

But Keith didn’t hurt him, so they had to start to accept that maybe they were wrong about the half-Galra. 

Keith’s disappeared from the Dolphinians surrounding him. Kayleen and the others look around confusedly trying to find him. Lance and Hunk hear a tired sigh from underneath the dock and see that Keith is hiding from them behind a post. He looks exhausted, probably from all that conversation and pushing into his personal bubble.

“ _ Too much _ ?” Hunk chuckles.

Keith nods and peeks around the post. Looks like the Dolphinians found someone else to bother with conversation and questions. Shiro. Poor guy. He feels sorry for him, but Keith’s not about to reveal his hiding place to save Shiro from their incessant chattering.

Too loud, Keith tells them. Hurts his ears. 

“He says the Dolphinians talk too much,” Lance smirks. 

“It’s because they’re curious now,” Hunk chuckles then addresses Keith. “ _ You keep catching fish like that everyone will want to be your friend. _ ”

Keith grimaces at that and Hunk laughs. Once he’s sure the Dolphinians are out of sight, Keith slinks out from behind the post with a gentle push of his tail. He pulls himself up onto the dock next to Lance, dripping water everywhere and creating a massive puddle where he sits. He points curiously to their food.

“Uhu,” Hunk tells him. “ _ Seasoned and grilled. Delicious.” _

Bite. Taste. Words that Lance recognizes so he offers him the plate and Keith picks up a small piece in his claws. He sniffs it and looks approving of the scent before popping it into his mouth. Hunk seems more invested in the response than Lance and leans in with barely contained anticipation.

Keith licks his lips, then his fingers. Signs out a few things that Lance doesn’t know but from the look on his face, it’s positive. He continues to pick another piece off Lance’s plate without inquiring if he can and just eats.

“Guess he likes it,” Lance says and Hunk beams with a flush to his cheeks.

“A mer eating my cooked food and saying it’s good? What a day,” Hunk grins. “You know they don’t typically like human food. Too much work, they say.”

Keith’s cleared the plate of what Lance had left and just in time too. Kayleen and her crew spot him even as he tries to hunch over to use Lance as a buffer to hide himself. The attempt makes all the humans laugh as there is no way Lance’s comparatively smaller frame could ever hide eight feet of tail and fin. He huffs out an annoyed grunt and dives off the dock to make a beeline for his private float.

“Why did he leave?” Kayleen asks. 

“I brought him fish,” Lorna says while holding up the scad.

“I think he might be done today,” Hunk lets her know. “Keith isn’t used to so many being so close. He’s overwhelmed. He may need some space and time to adjust.”

“Oh,” Lorna says, looking disappointed. She swallows down the little fish in her hands. “Will he still hunt with us tomorrow?” she wonders.

“Ask him in the morning,” Lance tells her. “I’m sure he’ll be in a better mood then.”

The Dolphinians seem to understand and decide to give Keith his space. They go back to their families and proceed to play racing games with the younger mer. The humans clean up their grilling equipment and haul it away. It’s getting late anyway, and everyone has work to do. Pidge has videos to take of her Altean mer, Hunk has some language programs to write, and Matt has songs to catalog. 

And of course, Lance has his paper that he needs to start organizing and blood work to study. He decides to say his goodnight to Keith before heading out for the night. Once he gets to the shore closest to Keith’s floating dock, he stops and stares again.

Keith’s sitting on his float. He’s turned towards the horizon with his hands in his lap and stoop to his shoulders. Normally, he’d be watching the sunset, but it seems like he’s distracted and looking down into the water. 

After such a fun day with a successful hunt, he should look a little happier, shouldn’t he? Lance lets out a whistle that catches Keith’s attention. He turns and sees Lance on the beach. Lance signs out to him from the shore since he doesn’t want to yell in his bad Aquan.

“Goodnight, Keith,” he whispers as he signs. “Tomorrow. Have fun. Good hunting.”

Keith signs back with a half-hearted smile.

“Goodnight,” Lance translates what he sees aloud literally. “Tomorrow. See  **you** please. Want calm friend. Quiet day.”

Lance sighs with disappointment. 

Keith’s not going to go hunting with Kayleen and the others tomorrow. Today was too much interaction, and he just wants to be left alone. Or rather, he wants to chill out with someone who doesn’t expect him to be talkative and won’t ask him a dozen questions--someone who respects his personal space and desire for silence. 

Someone like Lance. 

He has a hard time faulting Keith for wanting some peace and quiet, so Lance signs back from the shore.

“Tomorrow. See me. Books and music. Lunchtime?” Lance signs to him, and Keith gives him a thumbs-up of approval. 

With that, Keith drops off his float. He doesn’t come back up, which means he’s gone for the night. 

Lance takes the long walk to the laboratory and drops into a seat in front of a microscope. He looks at his blood sample slides and listens to his music station as he works. As hard as he tries to focus on the blood in front of him, all he can think about are which books Keith hasn’t read yet, and which ones will bring a smile to his face.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of love to my betas: LeaderNova, Atobe, Edhelwen and AndrewRose! Thank you for all your hard work and great input!
> 
> This chapter is SHORT and very quickly paced which is intentional.

**_“Ocean separates lands, not souls.”_ **

_ \--Munia Khan _

 

Time goes by faster these last weeks, and Lance finds himself rushing to get things done. All his samples are photographed and documented twice over to make sure nothing gets overlooked. Everything must be organized perfectly, and if he needs secondary samples, he gets them immediately. He doesn’t need anyone telling him that his data is missing components. He’ll fucking cry if that happens!

Lance still has several months to write his paper on Keith, but he can’t afford to take it easy since the subject of his studies will soon be out of reach. 

All his notes need to be translated over from Spanish to English and then double-checked a hundred times for errors. Sure, he can submit his paper in Spanish, but the majority of the people reading over his paper are English speakers and he’d rather they didn’t have to pop it into a translation program to read it. It’ll lose all the nuances of his writing that way.

Despite all his running to and fro to get things done, he still manages to find time to visit with the mer. Not that they’re at the bay much at the moment. 

They’re starting to prepare themselves for the trip back to Kyushu, which means lots of extra hunting and fishing to fatten up for the long trip. It’ll be hard to get food while journeying so they’ll have to rely on things they can catch with minimal rest on the go--quick snacks and using what they have stored in their bodies to keep them going. 

What that means is that Lance hardly sees Keith for days at a time. Thankfully, he’s hunting with the Dolphinians again. Lance was worried for a while that he might not, but as long as he gets a few days to decompress from their loud presences, Keith’s willing to work with them. Lance guesses that right about now he’s busy stuffing himself so that he won’t go hungry or drag behind the others as they travel. 

When he does see Keith, it’s around noon. He’s usually lounging on his float sunning himself. Contently napping with a full stomach and his tail swaying lazily in the ocean. Occasionally, he flips his tail up and splashes himself with water, so he doesn’t have to move to remoisturize his scales. If Keith doesn’t have to go anywhere, then he won’t budge.

But there is one sure-fire way to get that lazy slug moving.

A loud whistle and Keith perks up to look around. That sound means Lance is there, which means books and music and his friend. Once he spots Lance on the shore, he dives and makes his way to the beach. He climbs up the shallows, using his tail to push himself a little faster up the wet sand. 

Keith lays out on his stomach and pats the sand, telling Lance to hurry up. So slow. He’ll wither away if Lance walks any slower. What’s taking so long? Turning into a sea cucumber? Or maybe a snail? Move!

“Rude little shi--I brought you stuff, and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Lance frowns and kicks sand at him.

Keith just flings it back with a grin before gesturing out what he wants first. Music. Ten songs.

“My lunch break is only half an hour, Keith,” Lance tries to explain, but the words don’t click. “ _ Five song. Maybe. _ ”

Keith tries for higher numbers yet again, and Lance gently pops him on the nose with the book he brought. Keith blinks in shock and rubs his nose with an unimpressed frown. Books aren’t for hitting, he tells Lance. 

“ _ Sorry _ … but you need to listen. I said five. Then I gotta go,” Lance says, tapping his watch. “ _ No time. Five song. _ ”

Keith huffs but nods begrudgingly. Fine. Five is better than none. 

They sit and listen to the music playing between them as Lance eats his lunch. A sandwich and some chips. Plus a brownie that Pidge’s mom made to cater to his sweet tooth.

As much as Keith wants to try them (because every human thing he’s eaten thus far has been delicious), he’s not sure he has room in him for one more bite. Of anything. He’s had so much snapper today he’s ready to burst at the seams. So he rolls over onto his back and puts his hands behind his head to listen to music as he takes in the view of the bright blue sky. 

Lance tries to stay focused on his notebook, writing and eating at the same time. But around the time of the second song, he happens to look over and find a somber-looking Keith looking up at the clouds. 

It’s that same look he had after hunting with the Dolphinians that first time. His hands have moved to his stomach, fiddling around and pulling at his fingers in thought. Lance has seen him do this several times over the past weeks, but it always melts away when his friends arrive.  This is the first time he’s done it with Lance sitting right next to him.

Lance waits until the song is over to pause before asking Keith if he’s alright.

“ _ Keith, okay _ ?” Lance wonders, and Keith simply nods. “ _ Sad face. Sick? Something hurt? _ ” he asks next.

Keith shakes his head and sits up, his hands gesturing unenthusiastically. 

Seven days, he signs out. Then he waves at all their surroundings. The trees, the water, the beach, the caves. Seven days and it’s gone because he’ll be gone. Keith sighs and rests his hands in his lap.

“You like it here, huh?” Lance guesses. “Leaving’s got you feeling down.”

Keith turns and looks to him, a certain kind of worry on his face as he signs out the next part. 

Big laugh--Hunk. Moon eyes--Pidge. And L-draw--Lance. Keith’s friends. New year, all return?

“Will we be back next year?” Lance asks and smiles sympathetically when he realizes why Keith’s so concerned. 

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Keith’s never had friends before. To finally make some and lose them because of the migration must feel awful. And he’d hate to return to Hawaii only to find his human friends gone. 

So will they? Will they be here next migration?

“I’ll likely be here next year,” Lance tells him but signs out ‘Friends return’. ‘Lance return’. 

Keith lets out a breath of relief, and a weight seems to lift from his shoulders. 

“Scared we’ll leave, huh?” he chuckles and tussles Keith’s hair, something he wouldn’t have dared do when they first met.

Keith playfully shoves him with his shoulder and signs out some words with a haughty smirk. Simple sentences that Lance has no trouble picking up.

“Your Aquan bad. Really bad. Practice,” Lance says aloud and then looks aghast with objection. “Hey! It’s not bad, you know! I’m just new! I’d like to see you try to learn Spanish, you prick!” he exclaims, sending yet another spray of sand at Keith before shoving him back. 

Keith just laughs that mute laugh of his, showing off all his sharp teeth. Teeth that Lance thought were terrifying before, but he now finds familiar and friendly. Clawed hands that used to shove or swipe at anything close but now take care not to scratch when they touch Lance’s arm and tenderly turn the pages of books he can’t read. Eyes that were fierce and frightening but now Lance can only find curiosity and a puckish playfulness in. 

The others thought he was a monster, but Lance just sees… Keith. 

Beautiful and dangerous, rare and endearing, Keith.

Keith palms Lance’s phone and turns the music back on. He wants his few songs and damn if Lance is leaving the beach before he gets a chance to hear them. The station shuffles through and starts playing again. A familiar song that has Keith shaking Lance and pointing at the phone, grunting with excitement.

It’s that song Lance sang for the pods! This version has a woman singing it, but Keith doesn’t seem to care about that. He starts vocalizing the tune and gestures to Lance to sing too. 

Good voice. Good song. Sing song. Practice together.

“Thanks. I uh… you go ahead.” Lance half-smiles and adds, “ _ Lance voice tired. _ ”

Keith keeps singing, his eyes closed as he joins the singer from the phone. Lance just watches with fascination. 

When it comes to singing, Keith can get out every note. One would never know he couldn’t speak. Hell, Lance wouldn’t care if he never got to hear Keith’s speaking voice as long as he always got to hear him sing. 

When the song ends, Keith turns to Lance and asks a question. Something about the tone being right. Or maybe it's a disappointed scolding that Lance didn’t join in. Lance can’t tell, it could be both. Instead, Lance finds himself staring at that face. That face that’s going to be gone in a week.

“I’ll miss you,” Lance blurts out but then realizing what he’s said and how he said it he scrambles to add more. “I m-mean, the merfolk! In general. I’ll miss the collective you. All of you. Like I’d miss my family. Like that,” he rambles quickly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shame.

Keith just cocks his head and quirks a brow in oblivious confusion at him. Tone right or not, he asks again.

“Oh thank god you didn’t understand any of that,” Lance sighs with relief, a hand on his racing heart. “ _ Song good. Voice good,”  _ he finally answers.

Keith is pleased to hear it. There’s a couple of gestures that amount to a ‘moon’ and ‘song’ plus the added signs of ‘mother’ and ‘father’. Lance isn’t sure what it all means together, so he just nods politely so that Keith knows that he’s at least trying to listen--trying to understand. 

Lance always works so hard to meet him halfway. Keith’s going to miss that. There’s a chance that the Dolphinians will try to learn some of his gestures now that they hunt together, but...he’ll never forget that Lance was the first outside of Shiro to try. His first real friend that he made on his own.

Keith shocks Lance by turning off the music before the song is over. He does his ‘listen’ symbol and Lance sits up straight, eyes attentive and watching Keith’s webbed hands. Keith keeps his gestures slow so that Lance can get each of them and garner actual sentences from them. 

It’s more art than science understanding Keith. The signs themselves are almost never complete sentences. Some are just concepts. So Lance has to fill in the blanks with articles and such to create coherent phrases. This series of signs isn’t too hard to follow.

The literal words are: Lance friend good. Thank you, listen all time. Keith sorry. Trouble Lance. Friends all time. Promise, yes? But his translation comes out to...

“You’re a good friend. Thanks for always listening to me,” Lance translates. “Sorry for causing you trouble. Swear to always be friends?”

Keith extends his pinky at him when Lance finishes speaking. It’s a human custom Keith learned about from Hunk. It’s supposed to seal a deal--a way to keep a promise. According to Hunk, it’s supposed to be a big thing if the promise is made with the corresponding gesture. 

Keith wanted to make sure if he did this, he did it the human way so Lance would understand him.

Lance looks down at the webbed pinky then to Keith’s hopeful face. How can he say no to that? It’s just a promise between friends to never stop being friends. And he does want to stay friends with Keith.

There are no rules saying they can’t be friends.

“What the hell, sure.” Lance chuckles and hooks his pinky into Keith’s. “ _ Keith and Lance. Friends always. _ ”

Keith’s face lights up at that making him shake their pinkies with fervor. It’s a promise. He throws in a fistbump for good measure that Lance returns with a smile.

The watch on Lance’s wrist starts to beep to remind him of his work, so he stands and dusts the sand off his shorts. He digs into his satchel and hands Keith a few extra books, reminding him not to get them wet. He’ll be back at the end of the day for them, so keep them safe. Keith says he will and extends his pinky again making Lance laugh.

“You don’t have to pinky promise that one--” Lance snorts but shakes pinkies again, “--but if it keeps them from getting damaged, why not, right?”

With that, Lance heads out for the treeline to get on the path that leads to the labs. Keith watches over his book at Lance as he climbs up through the brush and trees. That slow casual stride while his hand scratches at the back of his neck. Once he disappears from sight, Keith sighs and falls into the book with a content smile. 

Yeah, okay, he’s… going to miss Lance. 

He didn’t want to admit it before, but now it’s all but apparent in how happy he was to hear that Lance would be back that he cares at least a little. It was more of a relief than he ever expected, to know that his friend would be here again. That niggling sinking weight in his gut gone the instant that Lance said he’d return. 

Now, he’s actually looking forward to coming back to Hawaii. Maybe in the coming year, he can learn a little English from Shiro. He’s always teaching the Dolphinians how to speak it, no reason he can’t learn some to understand Lance better. After all, Lance went through all the trouble to learn Aquan and Keith’s signs to communicate with him… why not extend the same courtesy?

That’s what friends do, right?

Keith flips through his children’s books with another happy sigh. 

Tonight is another full moon, the last one before the pods head out for Japan. He finally got that song of Lance’s down pat, just in time to sing to his parents like he does every full moon. It’s his way of honoring them and letting them know how he’s doing.

Would they be glad to know how much happier he’s become because of this migration? Because of all the people he’s met? Because of Lance? He likes to think so and hums the song to himself, feeling light and carefree for the first time in years.

 

*****

 

“I can’t believe they’re leaving tomorrow,” Pidge groans as she drapes her arms and face over the back of the couch. “Feels like they got here yesterday,” she complains into the cushion.

“Did you not get enough data?” Hunk asks as he leans back to see her pouting face.

“I did. I’m sure I’ll get my Masters thanks to those video communication logs but…” Pidge sighs then melts forward until she somersaults and plops onto the couch next to Hunk. “Still feels like it’s too soon.”

“Ah, you guys moping because the pods head out tomorrow?” Matt asks while peeling an orange. “I know that feeling. You get used to it. It’s bittersweet, but they’ll be back next year. Don’t worry.”

Pidge disagrees vehemently. Pidge hoped that the Alteans came to Oahu to find mates, but the only reason they ended up here was due to a freak tropical storm that set them off track. They were lucky to find this migrating group to keep from getting picked off. Now they’ll return to their original pods and Pidge will never see them again.

“Maybe I’ll move to the Alaska sanctuary when I’m fully funded,” Pidge muses. “What’s that one called again?”

“Glacier bay,” Lance calls out from his spot on the loveseat but never taking his eyes off his laptop screen as he types. “It’s funded by U of A Southeast in Juneau,” he adds. “They’re definitely hard up for graduates specializing in arctic mer studies.”

“They try to entice you over to them with a cushy sign-on bonus, Lance?” Matt asks as if he already knows the answer. “It’s a good amount of money but… it’s in the middle of nowhere! And there are no babes!”

“Why do you think I said no?” Lance jokes. “Plus it’s cold enough to freeze my dick off. No thanks.”

“Same,” Hunk sighs and fluffs Pidge’s hair. “I need the warm and the sun and the sand.”

“I don’t care if I have to live alone in an ice cave like a yeti or in a frozen bog like some swamp hag!” Pidge exclaims. “I want to study the Alteans more!”

“Well, you still gotta graduate which won’t be until your thesis gets graded,” Matt says as he hands half his orange over to her. She shoves the entire half into her mouth and chews. “That’s half a year, pretty much. Plenty of time to figure out where you want to do your doctorate work.”

“Can’t we go back down to the sanctuary before they leave? Just one more time?” Pidge pleads through her food, but her father overhears and squashes her request with a firm ‘no’.

The merfolk need to be left alone before their big trip. Some are still trying to get their last big meals in and plenty of rest. Interfering with that just for a few more videos could be detrimental to their preparations. They’ll get their chance to say their goodbyes on the  _ Hespera  _ tomorrow. So they just have to wait.

Pidge grumbles the loudest about it but understands. She’d hate for any of them to get hurt or lost because they were too tired and lost sight of the pods. It’s easy to get separated out there if one isn’t paying close enough attention. It’s the only reason Lance isn’t down at the beach right now giving Keith one more song before leaving. 

If Keith didn’t make it to the Kyushu sanctuary because he wasn’t rested enough, Lance would never forgive himself.

In any case, staying focused on his work keeps him from thinking about how much he’s going to miss Keith. He tries to reassure himself with the fact that his paper so far is excellent. There’s no way in hell he won’t graduate with his Masters. Good news if he wants to study here again.

Holt’s already assured him that there are three positions available for doctoral students next summer and that they get first refusal since they’re already studying here. No one else can take those spots unless the trio gives them up and hell if Lance is going to do that. He was already planning on moving on to a Ph.D. after his Masters but knowing that Keith will be back next year motivates him to start his doctorate here.

But that means he’s going to be picking up a few extra jobs over the year to pay for this additional schooling since his scholarships only covered his Master's program. It’s possible he could get a grant to study Keith, but it’s unlikely to be enough to pay for everything. Wonder if any of the fishing boats back home are looking for deckhands? 

“What about you, Lance? You coming back next year?” Matt asks, looking over Lance’s shoulder as he types up his paper. “You misspelled Lepisichthys.” he comments as he points at the spot. Lance backtracks to fix it.

“Thanks.” Lance nods. “Yeah, I’ll be back here to start my doctorate work.”

“Great! You can talk to Keith when he gets back about getting an official recording of his singing for my archives next year,” Matt beams. 

That’s right. Lance almost forgot about that first recording. Since he never asked permission from Keith to record it, it can’t be used. There are some cultural rules involving singing, and the Koi take it very seriously.

If it’s a group song, it’s meant to be shared. An exercise in bonding and usually viewed as entertainment. No permission necessary. But that’s not the case when a Koi sings without accompaniment. 

When a Koi sings by themselves, it's usually for private reasons. Like mourning or courting. One can listen, but recording is considered extremely rude without permission. It’s the reason that Matt doesn’t have very many recordings of single Koi singing alone. He gets one from Shiro pretty much every year as a favor, but rarely do other Koi allow it. Especially the older ones who hold their songs sacred. 

“I asked Shiro about it, but he said Keith wasn’t keen on it,” Matt pouts. “Maybe if  _ you  _ ask though he’ll change his mind.”

“Why would he change his mind if  _ I _ asked?” Lance frowns as he types. 

“You have a rapport with him, don’t you?” Matt asks. “Keith may be Galra, but he’s Koi too. Koi don’t really open up to anyone but those they trust. He might be more comfortable if  _ you  _ ask instead of me.”

“Trying to use me to get to his songs, huh?” Lance smirks. 

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes. I just thought you might help a buddy out,” Matt says, jostling him around at his computer by mussing up his hair in true older brother fashion. “If not, I can always keep my focus on the cultural significance of group singing. I won’t begrudge you. Publicly anyway,” he jokes.

“I’ll think about it--next year,” Lance tells him, shoving him away as he stands. 

He takes his laptop to his desk in his borrowed room, so he can get back to work without Pidge’s griping or Matt’s interruptions. 

Truth is, Lance isn’t sure he can do that. That is, ask Keith for a private singing session to record for Matt’s studies. He knows that Matt would treat the songs with respect but… Keith’s singing feels too private to record and hand around like a common mixtape. Too special to be picked apart by scientists for study. 

Maybe it’s selfish but… he doesn’t want to share that voice with the world yet. 

Right now, Keith only sings when Lance brings his phone down to the bay. Which means, he’s the only one who gets to hear Keith’s voice as he hums and vocalizes his favorite songs. The only one who gets to see that pleased look on his face when he nails the high notes and that flush of excitement when he gets to hear a new song. 

Lance decides it  _ is  _ selfish but… he wants to keep that for himself for as long as he can. 

Because one day, Keith will stop singing with him. Once Keith fully establishes himself in his pod… he’ll start looking for someone to complete him. He’ll start practicing on his own for his future partner. 

Koi tend to sing a ballad-like song to draw a few prospective mates. And then they perform private songs for the one they’re truly interested in. They’ll even exchange gifts to solidify their commitment to one another. After that… Keith will all but forget about Lance because someone else will become his world.

At that thought, Lance swallows and closes the top to his laptop. 

He can’t bring himself to do any more work tonight. Instead, Lance rests his chin in his hand and sighs as he looks out the window. The sun has long set, but the sky will still retain its oranges, pinks, and purples for a bit longer. A breeze floats in through that open window and carries with it the scent of salt and palm trees.

“Somewhere… beyond the sea…” Lance hums with lidded eyes. “Somewhere… waiting for me…”

In his mind’s eye, he can see Keith. Sitting on his float and tapping the hard surface with his claws in boredom. Diving on occasion to refresh his scales before laying out to look up at the stars. His lips pressed together into a smirking smile as he hums to himself on his last night in Hawaii. 

Lance stands from the chair suddenly, as if to make his way to leave, but then clenches his fists on the desk edge to stop himself. 

No, he shouldn’t encourage this. He can say goodbye at the boat like everyone else--no special or private goodbyes. It’ll only root this feeling of growing affection deeper when he needs to nip it in the bud. Besides, Holt already said they were to leave the mer alone for their preparations. If he breaks the rules, he could get his privileges revoked or even declined for the doctorate position next year.  

And he really wants to see Keith again next year...

With a deep, resigned sigh, Lance throws himself into the bed and bundles himself into the sheets for one of the most restless nights of sleep in his life. 

 

*****

 

The  _ Hespera  _ rocks and sways with the waves out in the open ocean, sun beaming down on them without a cloud in the sky. The pesky seagulls are even giving them their space. This morning couldn’t be more beautiful, but Lance can’t bring himself to enjoy its splendor. Neither can Pidge.

“I don’t want them to leave,” Pidge whines as she leans on the railing next to Lance. “Man, I wish this place could afford to be open year-round. And that they didn’t have to migrate.”

“Yeah,” Lance sighs in agreement while looking through his binoculars for splashing bodies in the distance.

He couldn’t eat that morning. Mrs. Holt even made them a wonderful breakfast with sausage and french toast. It must be affecting Hunk a little too as he didn’t go back for seconds. The only person who doesn’t seem to be down in the dumps about it is Sam Holt, but then he’s been through this so many times already that he’s gotten used to saying goodbye.

The mer come sooner rather than later, but they aren’t splashing, and they aren’t fast.  Makes sense to Lance. They don’t want to expend all their energy at the start. It’s a marathon, not a race. Since the Koi are the slowest, the others all set pace to match them. 

Shiro’s bright white and lacquer black scales come into focus at the forefront, but Lance is looking for a flash of red. He finds it several groups back near a small pod of Koi. They all seem to give Keith a wide berth as he passes them. 

Keith’s moving ahead to join the group of Dolphinians who don’t mind him being so close. It’s Kayleen’s young group. That does make Lance smile a little. It’s likely he was pushed to the outer edges on his way here. This time, he won’t be alone for the trip. At least, he’ll have company until the Dolphinians branch off for California.

Shiro comes to a stop at the side of the  _ Hespera  _ and says something in Aquan that makes everyone wait a moment. Dozens of heads pop out of the water near the hull, including Keith’s. The rest keep their distance from the boat. Shiro calls up to all the humans leaning on the railing.

“On behalf of the pods, thank you for your hospitality,” Shiro says, bowing his head respectfully. “We’re grateful for your help and kindness.”

“Anytime Shiro,” Matt grins down at them. “You need us, we’re here.”

“We appreciate it,” Shiro says with a kind smile. “We hope to see you again next year.”

“Us too,” Holt says, patting his son’s shoulder. He turns to the others and adds, “Anything to say before they head out kids? Now’s the time to say it.”

Hunk tells his Dolphinian buddies that he’ll be practicing his surfing so don’t slack off. They laugh at that and promise they’ll be ready for next year too. 

Pidge spots her Altean friend on the outer edges of the boat group. She pulls out a little strobe light and flashes the lights on it in quick succession, a phrase she’d learned from studying them. It makes the Altean smile and wave her goodbye while flashing the markings on her cheeks. Pidge’s bottom lip trembles melodramatically as she tries not to get emotional. 

“You gonna tell Keith goodbye?” Hunk asks when Lance doesn’t immediately say anything.

He looks down to Keith who’s waving at him. Lance just raises his hand and waves back with a bittersweet smile. He doesn’t have the heart to actually  _ say  _ goodbye. For some reason, it makes his chest hurt just thinking about it. 

Keith signs something out while Shiro has a few last words with the Holts. 

Keith’s words are only directed at Lance. It’s another jabbing comment about his bad Aquan. That if he doesn’t practice, he’ll sound like a baby mer forever. Then he signs ‘baby Lance’ over and over with a teasing look. It makes Lance laugh despite the mood he’s in.

“Yeah, okay, enough.” Lance shakes his head with a chuckle. “Lance practice,” he assures him through signs.

Good, Keith tells him, and then gestures one more thing that makes Lance’s heart hiccup.

 

_ Remember your promise. _

 

With that, Keith wiggles his pinky finger at him as a reminder. 

That’s right. Just because this is goodbye doesn’t mean they’ll stop being friends. And just because Keith might find his mate in the coming year doesn’t mean they can’t stay friends like this. He doesn’t have to lose out on Keith’s friendship at all. 

“Right.” Lance nods, his smile coming back. “Friends… always.”

Nothing can take the fond memories they’ve already made from him, and nothing can stop them from making new ones when they meet again. That thought brings Lance’s bright and haughty smile back just as Shiro’s about to announce their departure.

“Hey, Shiro!” Lance calls down while leaning as far out on the railing as possible. “Tell Keith that I’ll be ready to kick his ass next year when we go fishing again--that he won’t be snaking any kingfish from me like last time. I’ll win! Just you wait!”

Shiro blinks with surprise but then snorts out laughter. He gestures for Keith to come close before telling him what Lance said. Keith would look offended if not for the way he’s fighting a grin. He gives Lance a rude gesture, but with the smile on his face, he knows it’s not mean-spirited at all. 

“‘Winner is king of the reef’,” Shiro reveals his words with a smirk. 

“You’re on!” Lance points at Keith and thrusts his fist out like he would for a fistbump.

Keith’s eyes light up with challenge before he dives deep. He disappears, but that flash of red comes back in seconds as he jettisons out of the water. 

He exceeds the height of the railing easily with a proud look on his face. As he comes back down his knuckles smack Lance’s for the fistbump. And just when he thought Keith was finally over being a pranking little shit--he grins and proceeds to spray one last mouthful of water right into Lance’s face before landing with a big splash. 

The mer and humans all burst into laughter, banishing away what’s left of those goodbye blues.

“I’ll get you for that!” Lance swears as he wipes the wet off. “One day, I’m gonna spit in your face! See how you like it!”

“I thought you said it was ‘spraying’ not ‘spitting’,” Matt jokes and the others laugh more. 

Keith just grins at his victory and pats Shiro’s shoulder. He’s ready to head out when he is. The sooner they leave, the sooner they can return.

All the humans wave as each mer dives to follow Shiro and the other leaders. They have a long journey ahead of them, so they leave without delay. The last of Keith that Lance sees is that beautiful spiked dorsal slowly sinking into the sloshing waves. And then… he’s gone. 

Before they know it, the water is calm and devoid of mer. Already it seems quieter and the ocean lesser for their absence, like a void left in the wake of their departure. It’s felt by everyone on the ship as they all let out a collective sigh. 

“A year is so long to wait,” Pidge complains sadly, and Hunk pats her head. 

“Yeah,” Lance says quietly, his eyes on the horizon. 

But if you’re waiting for the right thing--the right person or the right reason--then it's worth it, isn’t it? 

With the merfolks departure, the summer migration ends and with it the students’ time with their ocean-dwelling friends. Until next year at least. Lance already can’t wait to return to the sanctuary’s hot sands, cool water, and fresh air. This place likely won’t change a bit. That’s why he’s more looking forward to how Keith will change in the coming year. 

Will his scales get darker? Will he gain some weight now that he’s hunting with others? What about that annoyed huffing noise he makes when he vents air through his gills in frustration? Will he still do that? 

Will Keith still curl his webbed fingers in when shoving Lance, so he doesn’t accidentally scratch him? Will he still tease Lance about his bad Aquan? Will he keep singing with his eyes closed in focus? 

But most importantly, will Keith remember to keep his side of the promise to stay friends?

Lance doesn’t know… but he’s more than willing to wait a year to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a short hiatus while I write out the next couple chapters. I wanna be able to update the next year in relatively regular intervals so writing it all out first will help with that. Subscribe and you'll know when it starts up again! <3
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	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of love and thank you's to my betas: MB, LeaderNova, Edhelwen and AndrewRose!  
> Please read the Chapter notes at the end for when the next update will be!

**_The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever._ **

**_\--Jacques Yves Cousteau_ **

  


“You’re packing already?” asks a voice from the door.

Lance’s oldest sister Veronica leans on the door of Lance’s room with a smirk. It’s the room he used to share with Rachel until she insisted on one of her own. Lance had a crying fit when they tried to get him to move into one with a smaller closet, so they let him keep it. When he’s away for his studies, they use it as a spare bedroom, but when he comes back, it reverts to the way it always ends up.

The walls are plastered with anatomical charts and drawings; some printed from a computer and others drawn in his own hand. One would be hard-pressed to find the original wall color, but if the pictures were peeled back, they’d find it was blue as the sky. Strewn about the floor are clothes, clean and dirty, as Lance tosses what he wants and doesn’t want into his two suitcases. Among his clothes are several books and journals, haphazardly thrown in with no semblance of organization. 

“It’s a month early, you’re gonna make mom cry,” Veronica adds when he doesn’t answer.

“I need to make sure I got plenty of clothes,” Lance tells her. “Last time, I ended up buying more underwear because I didn’t have enough.”

“Right, cause that rare mer kept soaking you right?” Veronica nods and scans the room. “Which one was that one again?”

Lance is very familiar with where all his drawings from the Hawaii sanctuary are. There’s a grouping of the young Dolphinians, Shiro, and several different Koi. But Keith has a section all his own. 

Without looking up from his dresser drawers, Lance extends his arm and points to several drawings on the wall behind him. Anatomical notes and hypotheses, all the things he wrote about in his thesis. A thesis that resulted in him getting his Masters. Veronica enters and bends a little to look at them, adjusting her glasses with the tips of her fingers. 

“Ah right, the red and purple one. The Koi ones all look the same to me.” She shrugs indifferently. “But he’s kinda cute, I guess.”

“He’s a punk,” Lance says with a grin. “Or he was… wonder if he’s changed much…”

“Maybe,” Veronica shrugs again. “do mer tend to change a lot in the course of a year?” she asks.

“Physically? Not really after a certain age.” Lance shakes his head and tosses some socks into his suitcase. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

He wants to know if Keith’s changed as a person. 

Will he be the same mer that scared him shitless a year ago? Will he have a new sense of humor? Or will tugging on toes and spitting water in people’s faces still be his prank of choice? Will Keith still like Latin music? Or will he have new songs to love? Speaking of love…

...will he have found it?

“Don’t forget to call mom every day,” Veronica reminds him and starts folding his shirts so they’ll fit better into the case. “She didn’t like it when you went a week without talking to her.”

“She knows I was busy,” Lance explains. “I had a lot of work to do and only a little time to do it.”

“No excuse. Mom won’t stand for it again,” Veronica scolds. “She’ll drag you back to Varadero herself if you forget to call her.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance waves her off and throws a shirt towards the suitcase, but she catches it.

“Hey! You’re lucky I didn’t tell her about that shark attack, or she wouldn’t let you go back to Hawaii at all,” she counters, shaking the shirt at him accusingly. He blinks back in stunned shock. “What? You didn’t think Hunk would tell me? He keeps us updated when you don’t.”

“Great,” Lance groans. “Now I gotta have a serious talk with Hunk.”

“Wouldn’t matter. I got the nerd on my payroll, too,” she smirks.

“Pidge too? Geez… I’m not a baby!” he scowls, snatching the shirt out of her hand and pointedly stuffing it into the suitcase.

 

_Baby Lance. Baby Lance._

 

He can almost see Keith’s sharp grin as he signed those words at him the day they departed. Playful and teasing flicks of his hands. Bright eyes pinched with glee at making Lance laugh. It makes Lance’s current perturbed frown shift into a soft smile.

Keith won’t be calling him a baby this year. Thanks to video chats with Hunk and the language logs created by Sam Holt, he’s been improving his Aquan. Admittedly, he has an easier time understanding the language than speaking it, but Hunk says that’s pretty normal. His sentences are still fairly simple, but even Hunk says his accent doesn’t sound like a child anymore.

He’s even kept up with the sign language by replaying old video logs of Keith signing to him and practicing along with them. Unfortunately, there aren’t many videos on that count, so he’s going to have to learn a lot of it all over from scratch. Maybe this year, he’ll take more comprehensive videos of Keith’s language, so he doesn’t forget. That said, he has gotten used to not being so stiff in his gestures through all his practice. He remembers Keith making fun of him for that last year too.

Lance wonders… will Keith notice all the work he did and be impressed? Just the thought is enough to make warmth bloom in his chest.

“Don’t forget Gramps’ marble,” Veronica says, pointing at the stone sitting in a shot glass on his desk. It’s there so it doesn’t roll away and get lost.

“I won’t,” he promises, and to prove it, he grabs it and zips it into his bag. 

“It’ll keep you safe. That or you can just stick close to your merman _boyfriend_ ,” she teases. “He’ll keep you from becoming shark food just like last year,” she jokes while poking his cheek.

“He’s not my—”

“He’s not? But you’re so obsessed with him!” she laughs. “Look at those drawings! I’m surprised they don’t have drool stains.”

“Shut up! And get out of my room!” Lance grumbles while shoving her out. “And don’t tell mom I’m packing,” he adds, shaking a finger at her. “Or I’ll tell her who ‘borrowed’ her pearls for a dance party last month.”

“Alright, fine, party pooper,” Veronica frowns while rolling her eyes. “Have fun packing, Loverboy.” 

She leaves, and Lance shuts the door behind her, pressing his back against the wood with an annoyed huff. He rubs his flushed cheeks and pouts out a frown. 

“Loverboy,” he mumbles. “Whatever.”

Veronica makes that joke every other week, and it still affects him like this. Maybe that’s why she does it. To get a rise out of him in the way that only meddlesome siblings can. It’s undoubtedly because of the drawings he keeps. He supposes he could take them down, but then it would mean admitting that she’s right. 

Means she’d win, and Lance can’t have that.

With a shake of his head and a sigh, he locks the door and proceeds to continue packing his things. It’s early, he knows, but he’d rather have it all ready than find himself scrambling the day of looking for another pair of shoes. The only things he should still need to pack the day before he leaves are toiletries, his laptop, and all his chargers.

Lance’s eyes fall on his bookshelf with sudden recollection. Oh, right. He shouldn’t forget his sketchbook, the one he used last summer. He has a new one now since that one has been filled. 

Lance pulls it down and flips through the first pages. He used some of these drawings in his paper to showcase Keith’s physical attributes. The ones that made him distinctly different from the average Koi. It blew a couple of scholastic minds to know that a Galra hybrid was spotted at the sanctuary and that so much data was collected from him thanks to Lance. 

Because of Lance’s thesis, the university gave the sanctuary more money and Lance a personal grant. Enough to repair one of their recovery tanks, extend the docks, get several new floats, and a new emergency dinghy to replace their shitty old one. If Keith continues to come to Oahu and the scientists continue to collect valuable data from him, they’ll get even more. 

Lance flips through to the pictures he drew after that summer with a smile and a sigh. Most of them center around Varadero and its beaches. Some are of the people and the places he sees on a regular basis. Buildings, cars, stray dogs. All things he was sure Keith would want to see since he really enjoyed Lance’s drawings and kids’ books last year. 

More than a few have Keith added in. His red dorsal fin breaching the surface in front of a sunset. His shadow in the barrel of a wave racing the surfer within. His tail fin disappearing in a splash of salty spray. His silhouette while sitting on a dock and staring up at the moon. All in places where he wouldn’t look out of place.

But on the flip side of that coin…

There are a couple of drawings Lance took out of this book and put in his secret folder. Indulgent things that he couldn’t and wouldn’t want to explain to anyone. Things like…

Keith sitting on a park bench and reading a book. No fins. No claws. Nothing. Just Keith as if he were an average human and enjoying a day at the park. 

And another where Keith’s in line at the coffee shop. Wearing jeans and a red hoodie under a leather jacket. A hand in his jacket pocket as he waits for his coffee to be made. Absentmindedly swiping through his phone with a smile. 

Then there are several different ones of him at the beach. Playing volleyball. Drinking a margarita. Digging his toes into the hot sand and looking over his sunglasses at the viewer. Beckoning them closer with a wave of his hand and a playful smirk. 

And in all these scenarios Lance is drawn in there with him. Sleeping against his lap on the park bench as autumn leaves land on his head. Leaning on Keith to watch whatever video he’s looking at on his screen while they wait for their coffee order. Rubbing sunscreen into Keith’s back so that he doesn’t burn in the Varadero sun.

He had no reason for drawing those pictures other than it made him happy to imagine the scenarios. Keith in places he couldn’t be, with a body he doesn’t have, and doing things he could never do. With… Lance. 

Lance lets out a deep sigh and closes the sketchbook.

“Maybe in another life,” Lance rolls his eyes. 

No point thinking about that stuff, so Lance tries to put it out of his head. He’s got a trip to prepare for and fantasizing about the subject of his studies will get him nowhere. He drops the sketchbook into his suitcase and returns to his dresser to find more underwear.

 

*****

 

“Come on, Lance! HURRY UP!” Pidge yells at him from down the street.

“I’m right behind you! It’s not like I’m dragging my ass!” Lance bellows at Pidge ahead of him while sprinting to catch up. “Hey! Why are you yelling at me when Hunk’s even further behind us?!”

“Because Hunk’ll catch up! You’re probably gonna turn around halfway because you ‘forgot’ something again,” she jabs.

“You little cretin! I’ll—”

“Stop arguing you two,” Hunk scolds as he jogs and then sighs. “Honestly. Guess some things never change, do they?”

Maybe when it comes to Pidge and Lance, everything is the same, but some things have indeed changed. At least, around the Holt abode, it has. 

A new add-on has been built onto the house — a small spare room. Now Lance and Hunk don’t have to share the same space at night. Not that he minded, but it does get troublesome when one person wants to stay up writing/drawing while the other is trying to sleep. 

The room is smaller, but Lance appreciates the extra privacy. He’s already decorated the walls in the past month with his drawings and new hypotheses. He’s even hung up a calendar with all his milestones and plans for the summer. Which days he’ll be at the beach and which ones he’ll be at the lab, when his days off are, etc. That way, he can make the most of his time without wasting a day.

The end of the migration isn’t going to sneak up on him like last time.

Another big change has occurred, but it's in Hunk. Last time Lance saw him, he only had a small tattoo that wrapped around his bicep. Some simple Polynesian style waves. But now joining those splashes of water is a large dolphin sweeping up his arm and shoulder. Lance’s jaw dropped to the floor when he saw it.

“I just thought it was time to add on to it,” Hunk had said with a smile. “Think it’s too much?”

“It’s amazing!” Lance ooh-ed and awe-ed it for a while, running his fingers over the design. “So cool,” he whispered. “Now you’re a hundred times cooler than me…”

“The Dolphinians are gonna love it,” Pidge pointed out.

“The dolphin is pretty symbolic in my culture,” Hunk explained. “Freedom, protection, and guidance. Plus, they look nice.”

“Suits you, Hunk,” Pidge had said, patting his arm. 

“Now I want one,” Lance had pouted. “Maybe next year…”

Other than some small changes, Hawaii feels the same to Lance. It still has a beaming sun and the white sands. The palm trees still cast cool shade as they swish in the sea breeze. Fluffy white clouds dot the beautiful blue sky. Lance takes it all in with a big smile as he runs down the streets to the docks.

Lance and Pidge come to a stop at the _Hespera_ , hands on their knees and panting hard from their run. Hunk’s already there, chuckling with a box in his hand. He beat them again with his slow and steady jog. Matt comes down the gangway and snorts out a laugh at them before taking the last box from Hunk’s big hands.

“Just like last year,” Matt laughs and turns to go back onto the ship. “Late on purpose to avoid the heavy lifting again, Lance?”

“Of course not,” Lance denies and stands up straight. 

“Uh-huh.” Matt rolls his eyes as the trio follows him onto the boat. “Sure.”

“I swear,” Lance says, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Purely coincidence that we missed all the work.” He then smiles as he shrugs shamelessly.

“Regardless, it’s time to head out,” Matt tells him, shoving the box into Lance’s arms. “Take it down to Tech Cabin 2. Put on your life preservers, too. I’ll get Dad from the engine room, and we’ll head out to the meeting spot.”

They take off as soon as Sam Holt finishes some last-minute adjustments to the engine. He comments that it’s getting to be around that time when they do an overhaul of the whole system. If that’s not possible, they might have to start scouting for a new vessel and put the good ole _Hespera_ out to pasture just like the _Aegle_ before her.

“That just leaves the next one to be called _Erytheia_ ,” Pidge comments. “That’s if you’re going to follow this Greek thing you’re doing.”

“You’re right; we’ll have to paint the hull red won’t we?” Sam chuckles as he directs the controls. “Maybe add a few golden apples to the mix.”

“Well, with any luck, we’ll get another nice donation this year—provided Keith shows up again,” Matt points out. “Then we can get a new boat. Er, rather, a ‘new to us’ boat. I don’t think we’ve ever had a brand new one.”

“Tsk, why is everyone so stingy with their money?” Pidge frowns. “Don’t they want to unravel the mysteries of the sea?”

That chatter goes on and on for a while as they sail. Lance doesn’t contribute much to the conversation for once. No, he’s too focused on how much longer it’s going to take to get to their transmission spot. He leaves the bridge to walk around on deck, eventually settling by the railing and leaning over it to zone out while watching the ocean spray.

It’s been so long and yet… it feels like only yesterday he was seeing his first mer up close. Jittery at the prospect of finally getting to study them. They were nothing like he expected and yet everything he hoped for. Then, before he knew it, his time was up. 

This year he won’t take any of it for granted.

When the boat stops and weighs anchor, Lance hurries along down to the tech cabin. Hunk and Matt drop their underwater mics and then drop into their chairs to adjust all their equipment. 

“Alright, let’s try this again,” Matt hums as he flips switches.

They were going to do this a week ago, thinking it was the right time for it, but a scientist from another facility sent out a message that the mer were late hitting her checkpoint. A week behind. So they pushed it back. Lance and Pidge were very put out when they woke up that morning and were told they’d have to wait another week.

It’s out of the ordinary, but sometimes it happens. Freak storms can put them off track—nothing to really worry about, even if it is inconvenient. 

“Send out the first wave in T-minus 30 seconds,” says Holt. “Hunk—”

“Ready to record, professor,” Hunk nods. 

Like a well-oiled machine, Matt sends out the first pulse as Hunk records the signal. The cabin is silent just like last time as they watch the screens for any changes. It takes a little longer than usual, but the first sound is a loud underwater pop. Then several more come through making everyone break out into a smile.

So the Dolphinians are definitely on their way. Now they’re just waiting for that familiar sou— a second later, the sing-songy pulse comes through on the mics. Low and melodic. Matt exhales a great breath of relief and turns to his father.

“There’s Shiro,” Matt nods and starts scribbling numbers with his pen. “Let’s see… the math of it is, just a sec… forty minutes. They’ll be here in about forty, maybe less.”

“Good to hear,” Sam Holt says with a smile and pats his son’s chair. 

They do a second wave pulse to confirm. To let the mer know they’ll be waiting for them right here. With that, they shut down the machines and head up to the deck to keep a lookout. 

Lance is at the bow of the ship, peering through binoculars and looking for any sign of a splash that isn’t the result of the ocean just being the ocean. He keeps looking for hands, faces, and flippers. But namely, he’s keeping his eyes peeled for red.

Soon he’ll see mer on the horizon. 

Soon he’ll see Keith. 

“Hey, Lance,” Matt calls out from across the deck and approaches him. He leans on the same railing right next to him and looks out on the beautiful skyline. “Excited, huh?”

“You know it,” Lance says, tapping his feet and scanning the water. He gasps when he thinks he sees a splash, but it’s just a flying fish making him huff with annoyance.

“You got like half an hour, chill,” Matt snorts and jostles his shoulder. Lance puts the binoculars down for a second to rest his arms. “Think Keith will be back?” he asks.

“He said he would be,” Lance shrugs noncommittally.

“I know, I know,” Matt smiles and brings his hands together as he leans on the railing. “Shiro always promises to be back the following year too, but that’s not always realistic. It’s dangerous out there.” 

Lance knows that’s true but… he hadn’t really thought about it. There’s always the chance that someone won’t make the trip. That someone will get hurt, fall behind, or even die en route to this safe zone. But it’s worth the risk, or the mer wouldn’t attempt it.

“It’s funny, but I always believe he’s coming until the second before we send the pulses out,” Matt tells him. “Only then do I consider the possibility that he won’t answer.”

“You worry about Shiro?” Lance asks and leans a little closer to talk to Matt.

“I worry about all the mer that come here. They’re like family,” Matt smiles softly as he looks down at the ocean. Then his head pops up and turns to look at Lance. “Did you know, at the Kyushu sanctuary they have a strict ‘observation only’ policy? No one’s allowed to even talk to the Koi let alone touch them unless it’s an emergency.”

“Seriously?”

Lance blinks in shock. He didn’t know that. He doesn’t know much about the Sanctuary in Japan at all. They don’t publish many of their research papers in English. And visitors from out of the country are rarely allowed entry to their facility. 

“The Japanese used to see the Koi as sacred beings, kinda like gods. And since it’s difficult to let go of thousands of years of ancient traditions, they still treat them with an extreme level of reverence and respect,” Matt explains. 

“I had no idea,” Lance shakes his head. “Wild.”

“I always felt like that’s why the Koi are so reserved and purposefully insular,” Matt muses and then chuckles. “And humorless. They’re used to not interacting with humans much unless they’re here on Oahu.”

“Shiro’s not like that though,” Lance points out. “He’s friendly. Outgoing. He even tells jokes. Bad ones, but still.”

“Haha! Yeah, that’s probably my fault,” Matt laughs. “Most of the scientists here are older, like dad. Shiro hadn’t ever really met or talked to a human close to his own age until I came along.”

Matt recounts how Shiro had to learn a lot of new words on his account. Matt’s speech was and continues to be so much more casual than his father’s. Shiro was used to Sam’s formal way of speaking, so it led to a lot of miscommunication between him and Matt. He wasn’t used to being so laid-back.

“It was tough at first. And I definitely made him uncomfortable on a number of occasions. You know, cultural differences, but… I guess I grew on him because we talk all the time now,” Matt smirks. “I can honestly say he’s my best friend, even though I only get to see him a couple of months out of the year. Know what I mean?”

Lance thinks about Keith and the way they’d sit on the beach together. Sharing his drawings and books, talking through gestures and poor Aquan. The jokes and laughter between them as they threw sand and seaweed at each other like children. Pranking one another but ending the day with a content sigh as they watch the sunset together.

 

_Lance and Keith. Friends always._

 

“Yeah,” Lance says with a fond smile and turns back to the ocean. “I think I know what you mean.”

“I see them! I see them!” Pidge announces off the starboard side, pointing with enthusiasm.

Everyone rushes to Pidge’s spot, some with binoculars and others without, to look out into the distance. 

There’s splashing. The popping jumps that the Dolphinians always do when they get to that closing stretch. Without hesitation, Lance plants his feet into the railing bars and stretches his hand out as far as he can. Pidge does it too, even though her father gives her a disapproving frown since it’s not exactly safe behavior.

“Lance! Hunk! Pigeon!” Kayleen calls out when she gets close. “ _Hit the hands, team!_ ” she clicks, and both Lorna and Markis follow her lead.

The three Dolphinians break from the pod, ones he surely recognizes, but he keeps looking for red. Where’s Keith? Back a little further with the Koi? With Shiro maybe? They each speak to him as they come up to deliver a wet slap into their hands.

“ _Hello!_ ” Lorna says with a giggle.

“ _Nice to see you again!_ ” Markis chatters.

“Surf again! All of us!” Kayleen shouts in English and then splashes down. She comes back up, swiping her hair out of her face. “Like last time but no shark please?” she adds, and the trio giggles out laughter.

“Right!” Lance laughs with a great big smile.

“We will rest today but play soon!” Kayleen says and clicks to her friends. 

They take off to rejoin the pods heading straight for the sanctuary. It was all so fast, Lance didn’t have a chance to ask about Keith. Guess he’ll just have to wait for Shiro, who’s a little slower, to arrive.

Soon the silver and grey bodies of the Dolphinian pods pass them by, and in the distance, they spot the Koi coming in. Orange, yellow, black, and white. All the various color combinations on their slow and elegant approach. It’s almost like looking into an actual Koi pond as they watch them they get closer. 

Then under the surface, black and white scales break away from the forefront, elegantly swimming towards the _Hespera_. Shiro undoubtedly. There are no red scales in his vicinity following under, above, or to the side of him which makes Lance a little nervous. 

Is Keith here? Maybe he’s playing some kind of prank? Hiding somewhere?

Hunk hurries to make sure the ladder is down in the time it takes for Shiro to reach the side of their boat. When Shiro surfaces, he swoops his hair out of his face with a smile as he looks up. It’s gotten a little longer, but otherwise, he looks the same. He gives them a wave and they all cheer.

“ _Welcome back, Shiro!_ ” Sam calls down. 

“ _It’s good to be back,_ ” Shiro answers.

“Come on up.” Matt gestures.

“Ah, well,” Shiro chuckles nervously, “unfortunately… I can’t,” he says and waves his other arm.

Or it would be an arm, except that, from the bicep down, there’s nothing. Shiro’s right arm is… gone. Just gone. They all let out a collective gasp of shock at the sight. 

“Shiro!” Matt stammers with worry. “Are you alright?”

“Holy shit, what happened?” Lance asks. 

“It’s quite a tale,” Shiro tells them with a sheepish look. “ _I would tell you, but I’m afraid the ladder is out of the question. Do you have another way I can reach you all?_ ”

“Hunk, Matt, lower the lifeboat so he can get in,” Sam instructs and then points to Lance and Pidge. “You two help too. We’ll haul the boat up together.”

Getting the boat down there is the easiest part. And Shiro has no trouble pulling himself into it. Hoisting the boat back up with a six hundred pound merman in it is a little more difficult. They break a sweat getting him up there, but once he’s there, they tie off the rope and approach the side of the boat, leaning in to inspect the damage.

Sam turns the stump in his hands and comments that the injury doesn’t look fresh. It’s scarred over and practically healed. The marks there look surgical, of professional quality. It must have been taken care of in Kyushu because it certainly wasn’t done here.

“Was it… a shark?” Pidge asks.

“No, no.” Shiro shakes his head with a smile. “ _Uh, you may have to translate most of this, Sam. I still don’t know all of the English words for some things._ ”

Sam translates all that he can as accurately as possible. The day after they returned to Kyushu, Shiro was unlucky enough to get speared by a trap left in the outer reefs. A poacher’s trap. 

He was tired from their travel and wasn’t paying close enough attention as he was setting their fishing nets. That’s when he triggered it. It went right through his arm, anchoring him to the reef. He tried his hardest to struggle his way out of it but couldn’t. It only made the damage worse. 

Several other Koi he was fishing with swam back to the sanctuary to get help from the Japanese scientists. It’s the only time the scientists there will interfere with the mer. They freed him and tried treating his injury in their recovery tanks. But the damage was extensive. It had to be amputated.

After that, the scientists sent divers into the waters in the nearby reefs to search for any more poachers traps. They found and removed several, but Shiro was the only one unlucky enough to stumble into one. 

“Took one for the team, isn’t that the saying?” Shiro laughs a little. 

“Oh, man… Shiro,” Matt frowns with worry. 

“I’m alright,” Shiro tries to smile. “It took some getting used to, but I can still cast a net and haul one in. I’ll be fine.”

Some mer get hurt worse than that from sharks and stingrays. There’s a number of Dolphinians that are missing fingers and eyes but still manage to hunt and raise families. Lone Koi will sometimes lose limbs or end up with shredded fins thanks to sharks, but even that’s preferable to being caught by a poacher. 

Getting fished up by a poacher usually ends in a slow, painful death for Koi, one scale at a time. Rescue or escape is almost impossible, but it’s been known to happen. Lance recalls there are more than a few rescued older Koi in the pods with missing sections of scales that won’t ever grow back. Those are the same Koi that will use the sanctuary but refuse any contact with the scientists there, and it’s hard to blame them. 

Humans may have rescued them, but humans were also responsible for their pain.

And if the captured mer doesn’t die from having their scales harvested, they will once they’re put in an aquarium as someone’s pet. Mer can’t live in a tank. No one can explain it, but the Koi say if they don’t have contact with the ocean, if they can’t hear it’s song, they’ll sink into a melancholy or go crazy. The thing is, every personal historical account supports that. 

Being parted from the ocean for extended periods is just as bad as being separated from a life partner. Too long, and it means certain death.

“My arm’s not a pretty sight but…” Shiro sighs and massages the scarring. “It’s better than the, uh, _what’s the word?_ Ah! Better than the alternative.”

“Can I ask why you were late this year?” Pidge inquires, adjusting her glasses. “Not to be rude but we thought you’d be here like a week ago. What happened? A storm? Your arm obviously didn’t slow you down when it came to swimming here.”

Lance pouts because he wanted to ask the next question, and now he’s going to have to wait until this conversation is done with. 

“Ah, our scouting group spotted a strange boat on our usual route,” Shiro informs them, and everyone exchanges a concerned look.

“Poachers?” Hunk wonders.

“Someone thought it was.” Shiro nods. “We didn’t want to risk it. So we took a longer way, and it delayed us.”

“Can you show us on our maps where you spotted it?” Matt asks and turns to his father. “We can report it and have the coast guard investigate the area.”

“If you have a description of the ship, that’ll help too,” Sam adds. 

“I can show you the area, but I didn’t see it. You’ll have to ask Keith or the other scouts that saw it,” Shiro tells them.

Lance’s heart picks up at that, and he can’t help but interrupt.

“So, Keith came back? He’s here?” Lance asks, eager to know.

“Keith is a day behind us,” Shiro tells them. “He’s with one of the family groups, those with new children, so he has to go slower than usual.”

Lance snorts a little. Keith hates going slow. Wait… family groups? Those with new children? Why does Lance’s chest feel tight?

“Did Keith… find a mate?” Lance asks.

Shiro huffs out a short laugh and shakes his head. No. Turns out Keith’s on guard duty along with several other Koi. It’s his responsibility to look after his assigned family group to protect them from predators. He watches over the children when the parents go fishing for food, too.

Why is that such a relief to hear? Actually, everything he’s heard in the last few minutes makes him feel better. Keith’s coming back, albeit a day late, but he is returning. And he doesn’t have a mate. Er, not that that matters. Regardless, Lance’s nerves are settled, and his excitement at seeing his friend again is renewed.

“So he’s a guard?” Pidge asks, grabbing her chin. “Does he like it? Or does he just tolerate it? The way I tolerate Lance’s thirty-minute showers?”

“Hey!” 

“Keith’s very protective of the baby mer,” Shiro tells them, a proud look on his face. “He takes the assignment very seriously. One of the new mothers asked for Keith personally to watch over their group.”

“Really?” Lance beams. “That’s great!”

That makes all kinds of sense to Lance. Kayleen told him last year about Keith eviscerating a shark that attacked a child. He’s probably an amazing guard. Nothing is going to get anywhere near them as they travel. If a predator isn’t scared shitless at the sight of him, it’ll turn tail after getting a nice rake of those claws and teeth.

“Wow, who knew Keith would be popular?” Pidge smirks, nudging Hunk. “He’s cooler than Lance now, not that that’s hard.”

“Hey, what’s with all the drive-bys?!”

“I wouldn’t say the others are taken with him, but they do see he’s useful in uh… deterring danger,” Shiro says and smiles sympathetically. “It’s a small step, but… it’s better than pushing him to the outer reaches like before. And even if the elder mer don’t care much for him, the children seem to like him well enough.”

“So he’ll be here tomorrow?” Lance asks again, and Shiro nods. “Do you know when?”

Shiro tells him late morning probably but no later than midday. That is, if nothing holds them up. Lance tries to curb his excitement but still pumps a fist. He can’t wait to—

“We can’t go down to the beach tomorrow, remember?” Pidge reminds him, poking his side with her bony fingers. “We have to give them a few days to settle in and rest.”

“They did have a very long trip,” Hunk adds, and Shiro nods with a tired smile. 

“Oh, right,” Lance hums, a little deflated. 

“We’ll see you in a few days, Shiro,” Matt promises, a hand on his shoulder. “Get some rest, yeah?”

“Will do,” Shiro chuckles.

 

*****

 

Once they return to the Holt abode, the young scientists all fall into the couches and loveseats with a sigh. Pidge is disappointed but not surprised that there are no Alteans this year. They got so lucky last year with that freak storm sending them off track but no such luck this year. And now it’s too late for her to transfer to study in Juneau.

“What am I going to do this year? I don’t want to stop studying the Altean means of communication but… without Alteans that’s a little hard to do,” Pidge frowns and picks at her nose. 

“Don’t do that Pidge, gross,” Matt says, nudging her face with his foot. 

“I’ll show you gross,” she says and slobbers on his ankle making him retract it with a disgusted yelp.

“You could always help me with my project,” Hunk suggests. “The real-time translator. I mean, you’re great with coding right? I’ll build it, and you help with programming. By our powers combined, we could crack the code on the Aquan language!” he says, beaming with excitement.

“Sure,” Pidge smirks and shrugs. “I mean, why not? I’m not great at the speaking or understanding Aquan part but… programming a translator to recognize words in one language and convert them to another sounds fun. One-way or two-way?”

“Ideally, two-way but let’s start with one way for now,” Hunk says and then rubs his chin in thought. “We’ll have to make a _lot_ of recordings this summer.”

“Shiro’d be happy to help find volunteers with that,” Matt tells them. “I’ll ask him about it next chance we meet.”

“Awesome, thanks Matt,” Hunk says with a grateful smile and reclines into the sofa a little. “What about you, Lance? Lance?”

Lance had wandered away from the conversation in favor of perusing the Holt’s bookcase for some books. Slender fingers sliding over spines as he reads the titles. Pidge throws a couch pillow at him to get his attention. It hits his shoulder, and he turns with a stoic stare.

“What?”

“Are you going to do more Keith studies this year?” Hunk asks. 

“Oh. Yeah, I was thinking about it,” Lance nods and returns his gaze to the shelf to search. “No one else is much of an authority on the Galra, half or otherwise. I could be the first if I keep working with Keith.”

“So what’s on the agenda this year then?” Pidge asks, and Lance shrugs.

“Figured I’d just start by documenting any physical changes over the year,” Lance comments and pulls a travel book to put under his arm. Keith likes pictures of faraway places. “We don’t have much on growth patterns for Galra. I’ll run blood work again too. Then, I dunno. We’ll see where to go after we talk a bit.”

“With your bad Aquan? He’ll laugh his scales off the minute you open your mouth,” she jokes. “Got your Masters only to lose it because your subject died laughing.”

“Haha you’re _so funny_!” Lance says sarcastically and throws the pillow back at her. “For your information, I’ve been practicing with Hunk on speaking Aquan.”

“It’s true,” Hunk nods sagely. 

“And combining the signs I learned last year, I think communication will be loads easier this time ‘round. I’ll get way more information this summer,” Lance insists with a haughty smirk. “More than you will anyway.”

“You wanna bet, you arrogant giraffe-legged—”

“Not to bring down this really touching display of love and friendship, guys,” Matt interrupts, his smile going uncomfortable as the subject changes. “But anyone else worried about that boat Keith saw?” Matt asks.

The room goes quiet, like a thick wet blanket falling over their playful banter.

That’s right. Keith saw a poaching vessel. Or at least, he was sure he did. It was worrying enough to cause the pods to take a different route to reach the sanctuary. They’ll have to ask Keith what it looked like so they can report it.

And then there’s Shiro. 

It seems like poachers are getting bolder if they’re willing to set up traps in the reefs that close to a sanctuary. They risked getting caught by the Japan Coast Guard, but it didn’t stop them. Sure, their traps were found and dismantled, but it was only after Shiro got hurt and the poachers themselves weren’t even caught. Maybe they didn’t capture Shiro, but they got away with disfiguring him only to return at a later date to try again.

Could that happen here in Oahu too?

“We should keep a lookout for any suspicious boats around here too,” Matt hums, as if reading all their minds. “We can’t let anything happen to the merfolk. They should feel protected here.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agrees. “Maybe we should hit those atolls the Dolphinians like—to check it over for traps too. Just to be safe.”

“I wanna go tomorrow,” Pidge announces seriously. 

“Me too,” Matt nods. “The sooner, the better. I’ll talk to Dad about ditching on cataloging duty, but I’m sure he’ll understand, all things considered.”

“How about I go with you guys?” Hunk suggests. “No offense, but I know the reefs a little better than you both. And an extra set of eyes couldn’t hurt.”

“No way Dad lets _all_ of us go,” Pidge frowns. “That’d leave him to do all the cataloging by himself and he won’t—”

“I’ll stay,” Lance finally speaks. 

“You sure, Lance?” Matt asks with a furrow in his brow. 

“Yeah, someone’s gotta do it.” Lance shrugs. “And I don’t mind.”

That and he wouldn’t be able to focus on searching for traps anyway. Not with how much he’s looking forward to seeing Keith again. Probably get accidentally speared by something because he’d be too distracted thinking about all the questions he wants to ask Keith.

How was his trip? Was Japan nice? Did he have fun with his job watching the baby mer? Are the Koi being nicer to him? Does he still sing? Did he meet anyone special? Does he want to go surfing together again? Or maybe just listen to some music on the beach?

Actually, there’s a far more important question he needs to ask Keith first, so he turns to the bookshelf and searches with purpose. Surely the Holts have a book on—ah, there. Lance takes down two more tomes to join the one already under his arm. 

A visual encyclopedia of ships through the ages and an exposé on mermaid poaching in the Carribean ten years ago. It’s not a happy subject, but as soon as they’re allowed on the beach, he’ll ask Keith to look them over. Maybe he’ll recognize the boat he saw. It’s a shame Keith can’t read because then he could have told them the name of the vessel or any numbers that might help identify it.

Maybe that’s something he should consider doing? Teaching Keith to read a little. It’ll be difficult since Keith’s grasp of English isn’t great and three months isn’t much time to teach him, but that’s no reason not to try. Even if he only learns to read a little, it’ll give Keith an advantage that most mer don’t have. 

Even a little of an edge is better than none, especially in the dangerous ocean. 

Also, Lance would be lying if he said he didn’t have a selfish secondary motive. Learning how to read will take a lot of work. And a lot of time. Time spent sitting on the beach. Together.

Keith can teach him more sign language, and Lance can show him how to write in the wet sand. They can take snack and singing breaks to reward themselves between lessons. Keith likes trying new human foods, and Lance saved a bunch of songs to his phone over the year that he thinks Keith will enjoy. It’ll be fun, just like last year.

That’s if… well, that’s if Keith still wants to be friends. A year is a long time. Mer, just like people, can change. It’s possible that Keith has new friends and priorities now—and that Lance is neither. 

He tries not to let that dishearten him too much. It’s too early to know anything. Best not to dwell on ‘what ifs’ and only focus on what he _can_ do. And what he can do is fill his hungry stomach with dinner and go to bed early, so he’s ready for a full day of work tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> [[[It is the month of Kinktober so do not expect another update for a while. I will be doing more writing for this fic in November for NaNoWriMo. So you will get an update at the begining of November and then you'll have to wait until it's over for more. Remember that fic writers post their hard work for free and so please be patient.]]]


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am heading out to Anime Weekend Atlanta but before I go I thought I'd give you your promised update! 
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> Lots of love and thank you's to my betas: MB, LeaderNova, Edhelwen and AndrewRose (and anyone else I missed)!  
> Please read the Chapter notes at the end for when the next update will be!

**_The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient.  
One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.     _ ** **_  
_ ** _\--Anne Morrow Lindbergh_

  
  


Keith can see the island coming into view when he breaches the surface for a quick scan of their surroundings. No boats. No signs of danger. In another ten minutes, they’ll hit the sandbar that protects the sanctuary bay. 

Every bone in Keith’s body vibrates with excitement. He’s been so eager to get back to Oahu for so many reasons. 

Kyushu was a nightmare of boredom and loneliness. Things hadn’t changed much among the Koi in regard to his being there. The pods allowed him to stay, of course, but conversation never improved. He could honestly say he missed the Dolphinians constant chatter. Part of him wished he went with them to the California sanctuary, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome, and he wasn’t sure he could leave Shiro, the only real family he has.

To make matters worse, Shiro was injured within a week of their arrival. It put him in the humans’ lab for a while to recover, which meant Keith spent that entire time alone without a single person talking to him. At least in Oahu, he had the humans, namely Lance, to keep him company when he was bored or lonely. 

_ Lance _ .

He’s so looking forward to seeing Lance again. 

He imagines it’ll feel just like when he saw Kayleen and the others. A rush of emotions that he wasn’t entirely prepared for. Mostly excitement and gratefulness. When the Dolphinians joined their pods at the meeting point, he found himself looking for his hunting friends and was pleased when they rushed over to see him too. They dunked and raced and tugged on each other’s fins like children for an hour when they should have been resting, but it made Keith feel like a part of something again, so he didn’t care.

Seeing Lance and the other humans again can only feel just as good.

Their group finally reaches the sandbar. Keith takes his place on top of the sands that divide the bay from the ocean and ushers the group to cross. He counts them as they pull themselves over the sand to make sure everyone is accounted for. Once the last one crosses, he lets out a deep sigh, grateful that the trip is officially over. He gets a tug on his fin that brings his attention down to the child smiling at him.

“ _ Thank you, Kei-Kei _ ,” says the child mer. 

Hina. A Kigoi Koi like her mother, Hana. She looks like every other Kigoi Koi with her yellow scales and dark hair, except she has a small tear in her ear fin. She's the girl he saved from a shark before she even knew how to speak. At first, she was scared of Keith but has since changed her mind, often tugging on his fin as they traveled.

“ _ Play _ ?  _ Today? _ ” she asks and signs, and her mother pats her little head of black hair.

“ _ Later, love. He needs rest, _ ” the mother pets fondly. She turns to face Keith and gives him a polite bow of her head but no direct eye contact. “ _ Thank you, Keith, _ ” she tells him.

That’s been happening more often in the past several weeks. Thank yous and acknowledgments. And it’s still so surreal being referred to by his actual name. For years, everyone called him Red One or Galra, and that’s only when they chose to speak to him at all. Things are changing, but he can’t say he’s unhappy about it.

Keith just nods with a small smile and waves at the little one, who is waving back at him as the two of them swim further into the bay.

For a moment, he stays on the sandbar and scans the entirety of the bay, noting some small changes. The docks near the caves look a little longer. There’s another little boat there, too. A couple of new floats dot the bay, but his preferred one still sits all the way over on the far side. He slinks off the sandbar and swims for it, pulling himself up when he gets there.

He brushes his hands over the surface of the float with a reminiscing look. It’s still got his claw marks from last year when the shark bit him, and he raked it in his pain. They didn’t replace it since it still floats well enough. Good. With the marks in it, it’s like Keith’s claimed it as his own, and no one else will use it. 

His own private island.

From here, he looks over the beach. It’s covered in resting and lounging mer but no humans in sight. It was like that last year too, he remembers. They stayed up in the treeline, hidden behind shrubbery while they observed the mer. It wasn’t until a few days later that they would come down to the beach, and even then, they were unobtrusive. They only approached once the mer were settled.

But still… feels like he’s being watched even now. Is Lance already here? Maybe drawing him while hiding in some bushes? He can’t see him anywhere, but he has an idea of how to find out.

Keith dives off his float and swims to the shore. He pulls his body up the sands to the spot he sat last year, then puts his back to the treeline. No sound in the trees so far, but maybe he can draw his observer out. 

He starts to hum the tune that he practiced so diligently last year. Lance’s song. After the first couple of bars, Keith stops and listens. His grin spreads when a moment later, he hears a response, the next several notes in the form of a whistle. He knows the owner of that sound and exactly where it’s coming from, so he turns to face in the direction of the source.

Lance is far off, so much so that he can’t see him, but he’s there. Keith is sure of it. But he also knows Lance isn’t supposed to come down to the shore yet. So Keith gestures something to the space he thinks Lance is hiding with a smirk.

_ Sleep day. At night. See you. _

Keith then points in the direction of the city to indicate the docks. Sure, he could wait a few more days, but he wants to see Lance sooner rather than later. He’s waited long enough. He missed his friend, and the docks are the only place they can catch up without worrying the new arrivals or getting Lance into trouble. 

_ Lance come. Whistle yes. Quiet no. _

He waits for a response and gets one in the form of a short whistle. It makes him beam those bright, sharp teeth, his hands rubbing together in eager excitement. Keith nods and shoots the foliage a thumbs up before returning to the water for a quick snack and some much-needed rest.

*****

The moment the sun starts to dip, Lance says he’s going to go for a walk. Says he wants to stretch his limbs since all he did was sit on his ass and catalog all day. The others don’t offer to go with him. They’re too tired from their all-day search of the atoll reefs, but at least they returned with good news. 

No traps. 

A great relief for everyone.

Lance pops in his headphones and makes his way down the streets to the docks. 

The nightlife is still just as vibrant as it was last year. He passes by several clubs pulsing out music, one of which has a few friendly faces trying to entice Lance inside for a dance. He declines with a smile but gives them a wink and blows a kiss their way, thanking them for the offer. As much as he loves to rumba, he has better plans for tonight.

He couldn’t believe how different Keith looked when he saw him crawl his way up the beach.

Through his binoculars, it looked like Keith’s hair had gotten longer and even more wild about his shoulders. His eyes were still that stormy grey-purple but not as harsh as they were last year. His scales still that bright crimson like freshly spilled blood but with new freckled areas of purple. Indications of regrown scales torn away from a few encounters with sharks. And he was still well-muscled but even more so around his arms and shoulders than last year. 

But what struck Lance the hardest was his smile. Keith looked so genuinely excited despite his exhaustion. It took Lance weeks to see a smile so authentic and unguarded last year, but this time he got it on the first day. A great start to the migration and a good omen of things to come.

Lance tells himself he should have known that Keith would still be so stunning to behold. Still so breathtaking. He was caught staring for so long that he almost missed Keith’s hand gestures telling him to meet up later at the docks. He’s probably down there right now, pulling on toes and tickling feet to alleviate his boredom as he waits for Lance. 

When he arrives, there are several boat parties in full swing, but the further down the docks he goes the quieter it gets. He takes a seat at the end of the docks, dipping his bare feet into the water. His phone is put to the side, a single earbud in so he can listen to music but also listen for evidence of Keith being nearby. As he waits, he gently kicks and splashes at the higher tide lapping against his ankles. 

Twenty minutes later, a shrill whistle resounds, and he startles. 

He’s here! 

And he’s close! 

Lance pops the earbud out and quickly looks around into the lapping waves. He doesn’t see anyone, but then there’s a rap on the docks under his seat. Lance pulls up his legs, bends and leans forward to look upside down under the dock only to find Keith’s grinning face inches from his.

“Keith!”

No sooner is the name spoken than a jet of salty water is sprayed directly into his face and mouth.

“Damn it!” Lance sputters and sits up to spit out the water with a laugh. “I knew that would happen!  _ I knew it! _ And yet… I put my face down there anyway, didn’t I?”

Keith clutches his stomach and laughs that mute laugh of his. Then he hurriedly gestures out a sign. 

_ Can Keith come up?  _

Lance looks around and finds that the docks aren’t quite empty. There are still parties going on, and a number of people might see Keith. If they do, they’ll definitely bother them, and that’s the last thing Lance wants. So he shakes his head and signs that it’s not safe. Keith nods with understanding and signs out another phrase that has Lance quirking a brow.

“‘Lance come down’? Wha—”

But Keith’s already grabbing him by his wrists and pulling him forward into a tumble off the end of the docks, making Lance yelp before splashing headfirst right into the water. 

He really should have expected this, but not even an inkling of him feels mad about it. Lance surfaces with a laugh and splashes Keith in the face. The mer responds by spitting another jet of water at Lance, which only inspires the human to dunk him. Keith just lets him and returns the favor by yanking him underwater with a tug at his foot. They wrestle and shove and laugh for a while until they’ve had enough and start treading water under the docks.

While they take a break, Lance holds a pillar to give his legs a rest, and Keith signs to him. He says that Lance looks exactly the same while gesturing to his hair and face. 

_ Same Lance. No change.  _

“Well, your behavior hasn’t changed a bit either,” Lance snorts out a laugh. “ _ I’m glad to see you again, Keith. _ ”

Keith blinks with surprise but then smirks as he signs. 

_ Lance Aquan. Much better. No baby sound. _

“I practiced so you wouldn’t make fun of me,” Lance huffs then grumbles. “It better be better.”

Keith gives him a smile and gestures out a few more signs. 

_ Missed sanctuary. Missed music. Missed drawings. _

Then he gives him a teasing look again. 

_ Missed Lance and Lance ugly dead fish eyes. _

“Hey! You punk!” Lance exclaims in objection and splashes him again. “I was gonna say I missed you too until that comment. Ass!”

Keith laughs and asks if it’s safe to go up  _ now _ ? Lance leans back from under the docks and looks down the way. The only party he still hears is far off. Chances are no one will see them now, so Lance nods that it’s safe enough. With that, Keith helps push Lance up the docks and then pulls himself up to follow.

Now that Lance can see him up close, he notes that Keith’s hair has gotten much longer than he thought. It barely touched his shoulders last year, and now it’s a super mullet. But he notes that Keith doesn’t braid it or tie things into it for style like many of the other long-haired mer do. He just leaves it free. It almost hides the gill slits at his neck, but the ear fins are always a dead giveaway to his kind.

Keith looks up at the bright moon before turning to Lance and pointing at it. 

“ _ The moon? _ ” Lance clarifies, and Keith nods. “ _ What about the moon? _ ” he asks, and Keith tells him to be quiet.

Keith closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before tilting his head back. Lance’s breath catches in his throat, eyes widening the moment he hears the soft melody resonating out of Keith’s parted lips.  

It feels like it’s been so long and yet, he dreamt about that voice just last night. He hadn’t realized how much he missed hearing the real thing. It’s as enchanting and captivating as it’s always been, so much so that all Lance can do is watch and listen in silent awe.

Last year, the song Keith sang alone on the docks was so somber and sad. Just listening made Lance’s chest ache like it was caving in. The pain and sadness felt so real that it brought him to tears on the few occasions he listened to the recording again over the year. Keith was so full of hurt last year, but this time is different.

The rise and fall of the notes feel the same, but the energy has changed. It still feels like a lamenting song, but instead of being filled with despair and pain, it’s tinged with warmth. It’s softer. Like recounting old happy memories of a time long lost despite the bittersweet feeling they leave behind. 

Lance doesn’t say a word. He just lets Keith sing and watches as his hands gesture out words he doesn’t know. The way he moves them, it's as if he’s trying to guide his voice to the sky. When Keith finishes the last note, he opens his eyes to look fondly at the moon with a sad smile. Those eyes look shiny as if nearly overwhelmed with emotion, but he doesn’t cry. Instead, he lets out a deep sigh before signing.

_ For mother. For father. Always on full moon. Heals heart. _

“Oh.” Lance nods, feeling like he understands a little now. “It’s… like a memorial.”

Matt’s told him about this before on one of his thesis tangents. When Koi lose family or siblings, they’ll sing songs like this to honor them. It’s like a prayer ritual. It keeps their memory alive and keeps the mer from sinking into a melancholy. 

Mer feel emotions so much stronger than the average human, and it has life or death consequences. It makes sense that Keith would do this since he lost both his parents at a young age. He likely started out singing every night until once a month became enough for him. In a couple more decades, once he has a stronger standing in his community, he may stop doing mourning songs altogether.

Matt also told him that there are several cases of Koi doing such a thing when a mate dies. They’ll often sing every night for the rest of their lives to keep their crushing sadness at bay. They never try to find a new mate, but with time they can learn to accept their loss and dedicate new purpose to their lives. It doesn’t always work though, especially in the cases of Koi who have been partnered for decades.

“ _ Thank you for letting me listen, _ ” Lance tells him while patting his shoulder. “ _ It’s a good song. _ ”

Keith’s face brightens up, and he signs eagerly to Lance. 

Lance’ll come to the beach again soon, right? He’ll bring music? And books? They’ll go surfing too, right? What about fishing? Some of the messages Lance doesn’t catch, because his hands are moving too fast, but they all have the same basic gist.

“ _ Slow down, Keith, _ ” Lance insists in Aquan and signs with his hands as he speaks. “ _ I have work to do first. _ Cataloging and stuff but I don’t know how to say that in Aquan yet. Anyway…  _ I’ll see you soon. I promise. _ ”

At the word ‘promise’, Keith brings forth his pinky finger and impatiently wags it in front of Lance. He can’t say he promises unless he’s willing to swear it. Lance lets out a short laugh. Keith remembers what a pinky promise is and wants to keep Lance at his word.  So Lance nods and takes the pinky. 

“ _ I promise _ ,” Lance repeats, and Keith nods before releasing his pinky finger. “ _ Welcome back, Keith. _ ”

Keith smiles at the words and signs out that he’s happy to be here. Coming back to Oahu feels like coming home. Not like it does in Kyushu. This information is very intriguing to Lance.

 Lance tries not to hope that maybe Keith feels that way because of him, but regardless of the truth, the comment warms his heart to hear. Keith likes being in Oahu. It feels like home.

“In that case…  _ Welcome  _ **_home,_ ** _ Keith _ ,” Lance amends with a warm hand on his shoulder. 

Keith gestures out his thank you before saying that it’s late among several other signs. His hand movements are simple and slow this time around so Lance can understand him—Keith’s still tired from their trip, and he wants to go hunting early in the morning with Kayleen and the others. Lance remembers that often the mer go days without eating during their trips, so Keith’s probably hungry enough to eat an entire Ulua himself.

“ _ I understand _ ,” Lance nods. “ _ Go sleep. Eat. I will see you soon. _ ”

Keith gives him a fistbump and dives off the platform with a wave. Once Lance is sure Keith’s gone for the night, he picks up his things and heads back to the Holt family home with a jump in his step and a content smile on his face.

*****

When Keith gets back to his float, he pulls himself up, flops onto his back and lets out a deep sigh as he stares at the stars. 

He was right about seeing Lance again. It was so exciting to reunite with him, but something felt different in comparison to the reunion with the Dolphinians.  

He can’t stop thinking about the way they wrestled at the docks. Lance’s hands grabbing at his shoulders, shoving him underwater with that boisterous laugh. Teasing and pushing and splashing with that grin on his face like they’ve been friends since childhood. It’s the way he used to play with Shiro when he was a kid. 

Yet, it feels different with Lance. 

Because Keith’s not a child anymore? Because Lance is human? He’s not sure… but seeing that his friend didn’t forget him makes Keith feel good. Better than good, but he’s not sure how else to describe it. Maybe like an air bubble floating to the surface? Light and airy and ready to burst. 

_ Welcome home, Keith. _

Keith fidgets with his fingers and hums a happy noise. 

_ Home _ . He’s never felt like he had one before, but he likes how that sounds. With a content sigh, he rolls off the edge of the float, making a light splash. He uses his hand to guide himself down the rope to the bottom, then curls his tail around the anchor before lying down for a night of restful sleep. 

*****

The scientists wait the allotted days before making their way down to the beach. Matt and Sam talk with Shiro and a few of the other Koi about their trip, documenting any encounters with any information they can remember. Pidge and Hunk stick to the treeline. Hunk so he can take pictures of any new arrivals and Pidge to help but also so she can avoid getting sunburned.

Lance… has his own plans.

He has important work to do but… he also wants to get Keith back for that spit to the face at the docks. After dropping his bag off at the treeline, he begins his revenge plan. In his hands is a child’s sandcastle bucket that he’s going to fill with sand. With Keith sunbathing in the shallows, it’ll be easy work dumping the contents on him while he naps. 

Keith doused him in frothy ocean, so Lance will cover him in gritty sand. Balance restored to the universe.

The only thing is, the moment he begins stepping towards Keith’s slumbering place, he notices they aren’t alone. Several familiar Dolphinians spot him as he steps forward. Kayleen and the others. Before they can call out to him, he quickly gestures that they stay quiet as he scoops a bucket full of sand and begins his approach on Keith.

While they initially nod eagerly to agree to help him with his plot, they just can’t stop giggling. It gives him away long before he gets close enough to Keith. Just as he raises the bucket up, Keith’s hand grabs hold of his ankle and pulls to unseat him with a grin. Keith’s foiled his plan, the sand pouring all over Lance as he falls on his ass with the bucket landing on his head.

The Dolphinians finally burst, clicking and laughing as they point at him. Keith gives him a holier than thou smirk, signing that he would never have gotten away with that one. Even if he had a million years.

“ _ One day, I’ll get you, _ ” Lance insists as he spits out sand and wipes it from his chin. “You won’t see it coming either.”

Keith rolls his eyes with a smile. A ‘yeah, sure’ if Lance ever saw one. 

Lance’s eyes fall on Keith’s webbed fingers just letting go of his ankle. He notes that something's off. When he realizes what it is, Lance sits up alert and snatches Keith’s hand at the wrist.

“What the…  _ what happened to your claws? _ ” Lance blinks with shock as he turns them over. Suddenly, he remembers himself and lets go of Keith’s hand with a gestured apology. “ _ Sorry.  _ Can’t answer if I’m holding your hand, can you?  _ What happened, Keith? _ ” he asks again pointing at Keith’s hands.

He hadn’t noticed them that night at the docks because it was too dark, but in the daylight, he sees Keith’s sharp claws have been filed down. Rounded off so they’re dull. The spines on Keith’s forearms look as though they’ve gotten the same treatment. 

They’re all blunt. 

“Keith does that now,” Kayleen says. 

“He scrapes them on coral and stones, so they are smooth,” Lorna tells him. 

“It is so he will not accidentally scratch when we play,” Markis elaborates.

Come to think of it, when they shoved and wrestled at the docks before… Keith wasn’t curling his fingers at all to cover his claws. And he bumped into Keith’s arms several times without getting a scratch. Lance just chalked it up to Keith being extra careful, but he didn’t have to---all the sources of potential injury were already dealt with.

“He decided to do that on his own?” Lance asks, and the others nod. “How does he hunt his food? Does he fish now like the other Koi?”

Kayleen turns to Keith and clicks out conversation that Lance simply can’t follow. It’s too fast, and too many of the words are unfamiliar to him. It’s that Dolphinian dialect, it’s throwing him off. Hunk spent the year teaching Lance the Northern Koi dialect because he figured it’d be easier for Keith to understand and for Lance to learn. Fewer clicks and more flowing rhythm. 

Keith seems to understand Kayleen well enough. He nods his head and excuses himself for a minute, crawling into the shallows and sinking away until he’s gone.

“He’ll be back in a minute,” Kayleen smiles. “We missed you, Lance. Will we go surfing again this year?”

“ _ Please! Please! _ ” Lorna begs.

“Well, yeah, of course. I’ll have plenty of days off for fun,” Lance assures them, and they cheer. “But work comes first,” he tells them, and they groan miserably, making him laugh.

Keith returns from wherever he went, crawling up the shallows and stopping back in the sand with their party. On his wrist is what looks like a loop of red plastic rope. Probably from a torn fishing net or something. On the strand, like a keychain, is a long sharp bone. Keith removes it from his wrist and hands it over to Lance.

It has a wide base, but the tip has a sharp edge. Lance doesn’t dare touch it, certain it’ll cut his flesh like it’s made of tissue paper. 

“A knife,” Lance muses and turns it over. “Or an awl-pike.  _ Is this whalebone? _ ” he asks, and Keith proudly nods, gesturing that he made it himself. 

“Keith still has sharp teeth, but he uses this weapon for hunting now. We use them, too,” Kayleen tells Lance. “He is teaching us to stalk large prey in the corals. The elders don’t like it because it is different,” she snorts and rolls her eyes. “But Keith’s way is better. Soon we will even hunt big Roi on our own.”

Lance is floored. Keith’s changed his hunting tactics to exclude using his claws, all for the comfort of others. He’s teaching the Dolphinians to hunt his way too. And from the way Kayleen talks of Keith, she defers to him when they hunt. He’s in charge. He’s their leader, and they look more than fine with that.

He would never have thought Keith would grow so much in so little time, and he can’t help but feel proud of him.

“That’s really cool,” Lance says, no sarcasm in sight. “ _ Great job, Keith. _ ”

Keith just waves his hand dismissively and takes back his knife.  _ Enough talking _ , he says. Did Lance bring him anything? Books? Music? Drawings? With each question, he cranes his neck to look behind Lance to where he dropped his bag. 

“ _ I have two books _ ,” Lance tells him, and Keith’s eyes light up. “But they’re not for fun. Where’s Shiro? We’re going to need some serious translations for this part.”

“We will get him,” Kayleen nods and clicks several words at her team. 

The party of Dolphinians leaves, making a beeline for the gathered Koi on the other side of the bay. Lance goes to retrieve his satchel, dusting as much sand off of it as he can before returning to the shore with Keith. The mer makes impatient grabby hands for the bag, but Lance shakes his head. 

_ Wait for Shiro, _ Lance signs.  _ Important _ . 

The trio of Dolphinians returns five minutes ahead of the slower Koi. 

“Books are boring.” Kayleen frowns and grabs Lance’s bucket. “Can we play with your toy?”

“Knock yourself out, er… I mean, yeah,” he corrects. “ _ Have fun. _ ”

“ _ We will, _ ” Markis promises, and the three of them take off to build sandcastles down the shoreline with some mer children.

A moment later, Shiro finally arrives at their spot on the shore.

“It’s nice to see you again, Lance,” Shiro smiles and shakes his hand. “You needed someone to help translate?”

“Yeah, I’m a little rusty,” Lance admits with a laugh. “I can ask the questions in Aquan, but I might need help understanding his responses.”

“As Matt always says, fire when ready,” he chuckles.

Lance takes his seat in front of Keith, crossing his legs. He digs through the bag and pulls out a large book with a boat on the cover. Keith’s biting his lip with excitement and about to reach out for it but stops when Lance clears his throat. Lance’s face is serious, so Keith waits for what he has to say.

“ _ Important question _ ,” he starts. “ _ You saw a boat. A bad boat. Can you tell me which one? _ ”

Keith goes from eager excitement to severe in no time flat. This is not playtime. He nods his head in understanding, taking the book and flipping through it with serious concentration. 

He points to several different boats but then shakes his head, like something isn’t right. Shiro translates his confusion for Lance. The mast is right on one, but the boat shape is wrong. With another, the boat size will seem mostly right, but the sails aren’t. There is one good piece of news; all the boats he points out resemble a type of trawler. Bad news is, none of them matches exactly what he saw.

“He says he thinks the bad boat was older,” Shiro translates while watching Keith’s hands. “The color was faded. Might have been blue once but grey now.”

“Older,” Lance hums contemplatively. 

“And the net was on the side...” 

It’s a side trawler, Lance realizes with a snap. They were popular in the 50s, but they’ve been mostly replaced with stern trawlers now. Might still be a few people out there using them though. Old sailors with equally old ways of thinking. Lance will have to find another book if they want to know the exact model. 

“How did he know it was a bad boat and not just a fishing boat?” Lance asks Shiro, and he translates.

Keith switches to the other book Lance brought and flips through it quickly. He finds what he’s looking for easily and taps emphatically on a picture. It’s a whaling boat, and Keith’s finger is on the mounted speargun. Then signs out the number two. Two guns.

“Yeah… that makes it a bad boat alright.” Lance swallows uncomfortably. “Any symbols? Er…  _ were there pictures on the boat? _ ”

Keith furrows his brow in thought, then blinks with a sudden memory. He gestures out a few words, but Lance only understands one. Hooks.

“He says there were strange hooks drawn on it,” Shiro translates. “ _ Can you draw them, Keith? In the sand? _ ”

Keith nods and proceeds to drag a dull claw through the wet sand. When finished, it looks like two 5s. Keith gives him an apologetic look and tells him he doesn’t remember any other pictures. He only remembered those ones because they looked like something he recognized. And he didn’t want to stick around too long to look for more and end up getting spotted so he left.

“Oh, no, that’s fine, Keith.  _ This helps. _ ” Lance smiles reassuringly as he scribbles down all of Keith’s observations. “It’s probably part of a registration number.”

As glad as he is to have all this information, the fact that poachers were seen at all on their route worries Lance. He remembers there was a report of a small pod of Dolphinians taken in the late winter. Never found but he has guesses as to what happened to them. And none of them good.

He’s heard stories of some people keeping mer as exotic pets. Some kill and sell the mer’s flesh to rich bastards as a delicacy to eat. They believe it’ll cure illnesses or prolong their life. There’s no scientific backing for such a claim, but it doesn’t stop the capture and sale of many merfolk, mostly Dolphinian. 

A different hell awaits captured Koi.

There was a poaching vessel raided this past spring. There was a big news story on it. They found what remained of two lone Koi, malnourished, almost scaleless, and practically insane from being in a tank for four months. They died en route to the Kyushu Sanctuary. Lance was shaking with worry as he watched the story on tv, thinking it could be Shiro or Keith. Luckily, they reported both victims as Showa Koi, so he was able to sleep that night without nightmares.

The Koi poachers want them for their scales. They’re so shining and vibrant that many desire them for jewelry. While  _ owning  _ Koi scales isn’t illegal (as the Koi shed them on occasion much like sharks lose teeth), the sale of their scales  _ is  _ illegal. The most sought after are the Showa. Why catch three different mer for the three most popular colors when a Showa has them all?

An adult Koi can set one up for millions of dollars, especially if they take the scales slowly over time. Dumb poachers will kill the Koi outright and just harvest from its corpse. A quick payoff with a quick return. But smart poachers know that the longer a Koi lives, the more likely it is to grow more back for additional rounds of harvesting.

The idea of any of those things happening to any of the mer here makes Lance sick to his stomach. When he looks out to the bay, all he can see are their smiling faces, their laughter echoing out over the waters. So carefree and innocent and beautiful. How could anyone ever want to hurt these people?

“I’ll tell Holt everything you’ve told me,” Lance says and looks to them both. “And… I’m sorry. Poachers are disgusting. You shouldn’t have to deal with them.”

“We avoided them easily enough, thanks to Keith,” Shiro says, proudly patting Keith’s head like a child’s, to which the recipient shoves his hand off with an indignant huff and gesture.

_ Not a child. Enough. _

“Still, if you see any more suspicious boats, just let us know,” Lance insists. “ _ I will not let anyone hurt the merfolk. I will sink the bad boats myself if I have to _ ,” he declares seriously.

It’s quiet for a second as both mer stare at him, as if a little stunned by his statement. But then Keith looks like he’s trying (unsuccessfully) not to smile. He signs something to Shiro that makes the older mer burst with a snort, and then both are laughing.  Shiro asks something in Aquan, and Keith signs something more making the older mer laugh yet again. 

Lance thinks maybe his translation came out weird, and he flushes with embarrassment. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Lance frowns with worry.

“No, no,” Shiro waves his hand, “we were just… commenting on how brave you sound.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance brightens up a little but frowns again when they continue to snicker to themselves. “I’m guessing ‘brave’ has a different meaning in Aquan. One I don’t know.”

“Yes and no,” Shiro gestures his hands up and down like he’s weighing something. “ _ Brave _ still means ‘to have admirable courage’, but if you change the pitch a little towards the end, the word changes, giving it another meaning.”

“Dumb?” Lance guesses with a dejected look. “Ugh…”

“More akin to ‘reckless’,” Shiro chuckles. “Funnily enough, I created Keith’s sign for ‘brave’. Whether it means ‘courageous’ or ‘reckless’ depends on uh… context. And since he didn’t give it in his sentence, he called you both.” 

“So, he basically said that I’m a confident dumbass,” Lance frowns, unamused. 

“He said, ‘he’s so brave, isn’t he?’” Shiro tells him and aborts another laugh. “I asked which one he meant and he just said ‘does it matter?’” 

“Great.”

“Don’t worry, Lance.” Shiro pats his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m not laughing because I agree. It just reminds me that I used to say the same thing about him.”

He explains that when Keith was a child and argued with Shiro, he’d often cover his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen to the older mer. Because if Keith’s listening, he can  _ hear  _ Shiro call him reckless in regards to fighting sharks on his own. He wasn’t a fan of that. But if Keith’s  _ not  _ listening and can only see, then Shiro must use the sign he came up with. Brave. Which Keith could and would, out of stubbornness and refusal to accept, adjust to mean what he wanted it to mean.

He wasn’t reckless or stupid. He was brave. And there was nothing Shiro could say to change his mind about that.

“So when he calls you brave like that, it’s not an insult,” Shiro says. “He admires your fearlessness.”

“Oh.” Lance blinks, his cheeks flushing a little. “Then…  _ thanks _ ,” he says with a small smile.

Keith just does his ‘forget about it’ dismissive wave with another series of signs. 

_ Lance brave. Keith brave. Both brave need for good team. _

Besides, Keith likes that he’s not the only one who’s gonna get a scolding from Shiro if he does something ‘brave'. Keith smirks and offers a fistbump that Lance gladly takes. 

“That said, don’t endanger yourself on our account,” Shiro tells him with a parenting tone. “We’ve been dealing with poachers for a long, long time. They’re dangerous enough to mer, but I think they’d be just as dangerous to humans who cause them trouble.”

“Probably.” Lance nods. 

“Enough about poachers and danger,” Shiro says. “How’s your year been, Lance? Your studies on Keith, did they work out? Matt wouldn’t tell me, said I had to ask you myself,” he chuckles.

The change of topic is a welcome one after all that gloom. 

He tells them about his paper, that it went over so well with the overview board they gave the sanctuary an increase in their yearly funding. They even gave Lance a small personal grant. Shiro noticed that there were a few more floats in the bay and the docks had been extended. He even commented on the new little boat to Matt. Still no motor in it though, since the mer aren’t exactly a fan of loud machinery. 

“We also repaired one of the tanks in the lab,” Lance explains. “It was for housing sick or injured Orcans, but I used my grant to fix it up and make it a little bigger. Big enough to house several average-sized mer at once if necessary.”

“Several?” Shiro quirks a brow in confusion. 

“Well, yeah, okay, so I have this hypothesis but let me ask you… when you got hurt at the Kyushu sanctuary, how big was the recovery tank and how long did you have to stay in it?” Lance asks and readies his notebook to take notes.

Shiro recounts that it wasn’t particularly large. Just big enough to swim back and forth in and turn around without touching anything. It was stocked with corals and a small seaweed forest which seemed real enough, but the water felt a little strange when he filtered through his gills so he often just breathed the air. 

He was only there for a month, but Shiro explains that it felt like so much longer. He lost so much weight because his appetite went to nothing while in the tank. And he grew despondent after two weeks with no one to talk to. While his arm was in much better shape with the cleaner water and medical attention, his mind and body were exhausted when he finally returned to the pods after the month was up. 

“And you were alone the whole time, right?” Lance asks, and Shiro nods. “Most tanks are made to house only one mer at a time, to reduce the chance of infection, but mer are pretty hardy when it comes to physical injuries. It’s their emotional state that affects their well-being the most, right?”

Shiro translates for Keith and both mer nod in agreement. That sounds right to them. A shark bite isn’t nearly as bad as becoming melancholic. Keith remarks that even when injured, he can eat and sleep easily, but when his father died, his mother practically had to force food down his throat so he wouldn’t starve himself. 

“Right! So I had this idea that if a mer was sick or injured, their recovery time would be faster and their overall mental health would improve if they could have the company of another mer while in the tanks,” Lance tells them, pulling out his lined notebook. 

There’s a basic schematic inside of what the tank looks like. He shows the drawing to them and points with a pencil. The old tank is drawn in dark pen with fresh pencil lines showing how it was changed. There are dozens of notes in the surrounding space.

“Like I said, it used to be an Orcan tank, but we don’t get many of those in Oahu anymore,” Lance explains. “Even when it was used for Orcans, it was way too small. So I had them expand it, turned the steps that went down into the water into a ramp instead, so no one’s scraping their scales on sharp edges, and I asked them to make it a little deeper for full submersion. Room enough for at least three full-grown Koi at once. What do you think?”

“It looks much bigger than the one I recovered in,” Shiro admits as Keith takes the notebook from his hands to look at it with interest.

“Being separated from the ocean for any amount of time is bad enough for mer. So I figure whether it's sibling, partner, child, or just a friend, the provided company would help make the ordeal more bearable and the recovery smoother,” Lance says. “ _ What do you think, Keith? _ ”

Keith asks a few questions.  

_ Corals in tank? Plants and sand? _

Lance assures him there are. 

_ Fish too? _

Yes, some small fish that need minimal taking care of. 

_ A float? For resting on? _

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about putting one in there,” Lance admits and takes the notebook back. Keith watches as he sketches in a float real quick. “There’s the ramp, but that feels like being beached right? No fun. There! A float!  _ Good? _ ”

Keith gives him a thumbs up.  _ Much better, _ he says.  _ Now _ , Keith gestures,  _ more important things _ . 

Lance has books for him, right? Not boring boat books but fairytale ones? With magic frogs and long-haired princesses? Or maybe his drawing book from last time? 

Lance stifles a snort and feigns ignorance as he looks through his bag.

“Gee, I don’t think I have anything like that,” Lance says while trying to suppress a smile as he searches. “Nope. _Sorry._ _ No books for Keith. No drawings. _ ”

Keith frowns, his brow furrowed in displeasure, and it makes both Shiro and Lance laugh.

“ _ Oh, wait! What is this? _ ” Lance asks, and Keith leans forward with eager curiosity. 

Lance pulls out a thick picture book, passing it back and forth between his hands. Keith grins with excitement, his fingers fidgeting like he wants to snatch it right out of Lance’s hold. He doesn’t, but if Lance doesn’t hurry up and give it to him, it looks as though he’s going to tackle him. Going to use his crushing weight of several hundred pounds to  _ make  _ Lance surrender the tome.

“ _ A book Keith can borrow _ ,” he says and lists off his rehearsed terms. “ _ Do not get it wet. Be gentle on pages. Leave in the dry sand when not using. I will pick it up when you are done. Understand? _ ”

Keith signs that he gets it already, so Lance passes it over to him. He beams with excitement once it’s in his hands, then flips the pages and sniffs the little puffs of air. There’s nothing in the sea that smells quite like the books Lance brings. Too bad the ocean isn’t conducive to keeping storybooks. He thanks Lance and scoots up higher into the dry sand so he can get started.

_ Lance stay. Read too. Yes? _

“ _ Another time. _ I gotta get this ship info back to the Professor,” Lance says as he stands and shoulders his bag. “Did Matt tell you about the atolls?” he asks, looking to Shiro.

 Shiro nods. “Yes, he said it should be safe for us to fish and hunt there.”

“Great,” Lance smiles. “Then, I guess I’ll see you guys around. Welcome back to Oahu.”

“Thank you for having us,” Shiro smiles back with a polite nod of his head.

With that, Lance bids them goodbye and walks slowly down the beach to join the other humans. 

Shiro watches Lance carefully pick his way down the beach, avoiding sunbathing mer and waving his friendly hellos to any he passes.

“ _ What admirable character he has _ ,” Shiro chuckles. 

Matt taught Shiro a while back on how grants worked when he got one himself for his own paper. Lance could have allotted that spending for himself. New laptops or other equipment. Even a small private research vessel. And yet, he essentially gave it to the merfolk with his recovery tank expansion. 

Something similar happened five years ago when the bay got their first set of floating docks.  Matt told him that the government paid for them out of their yearly funding. It was the first time Matt had ever lied to Shiro. Shiro found out later from Sam that Matt paid for them with the grant he was given for his excellent thesis on the cultural significance of group song in Northern Koi pods. 

Matt told his father that the money belonged to the Koi anyway because if it weren’t for them, his paper never would have gotten published in the first place. It wasn’t a gift but he was worried the Koi might see it that way, so he did all he could to hide his generosity from them so he wouldn’t damage their relations. Sam did something similar years before that when he created the underwater caves.

All of them have such compassion. It’s people like Matt and Sam that make Oahu so wonderful to return to each year and now Lance has joined the ranks with his own gifts of kindness.

“ _ The world needs more people like him _ ,” Shiro comments. 

Keith doesn’t look up from his pages but signs out something just the same.

 

_ There are no other people like Lance.  _

 

Shiro expected something added on, a sarcastic snort or a joke. Maybe another teasing jab about Lance’s ‘bravery’ to make them both laugh. But Keith says nothing more before returning his hands to the pages, drawn back into the colorful world of faeries and dragons and magic. The world Lance handed to him as if it were the most inconsequential gesture.

For a fleeting moment, Shiro thinks he sees something. A quick glance from Keith as his eyes flick up from his book. He’s looking down the shoreline at Lance as he walks away. Instead of a haughty smirk or a roll of his eyes, Keith tucks his chin a little with a quiet smile. Then, just as quickly, he returns his eyes to the book, his face unreadable once again. 

It happens so quickly that Shiro can only guess at the emotion behind that smile. Whatever it is he glimpsed, Shiro knows one thing--- 

Something is starting or has already begun.

And it’s anything but inconsequential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> [[[November is the start of National Novel Writing Month and as such, I'll likely be completely out of contact on twitter and Tumblr for the month so I can focus on writing. I'd like to write more to this story during that month though I'm hitting a bit of snag with what should come next to keep building up the relationship between Keith and Lance without rushing it. Feel free to leave comments but know that there won't be an update until at least after November is over. Thanks for reading, I really appreciate all the love this fic gets.]]]


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